My Captain
by Bells of Tomorrow
Summary: When young Jonathan Dorian is captured by a mass of bloody pirates, his life takes a turn for the worst. But after the storm there is always a calm; and this calm is known as Captain Percival Cox. AU.
1. Chapter I

_**A/N: **__Hey, everyone! Back and ready to go with a new story! I'm sorry this took so long, but I wanted to wait until I had at least five chapters of it done. To be honest, I've been planning this thing since late last summer; making out lines and time lines and all that jazz, but since this one is going to be rather long, I decided to put it on hold and get my other ideas out there. (Some of you may remember this story being an option in a poll I had on my profile quite a while ago as well) But okay, this is _**very important **_to take note of before you begin reading this sucker. This story is AU: _Very _AU. It is only fair that I tell you beforehand that this will not be your everyday Scrubs story. For example: some ages and phrases will be changed to fit in with the time period and what not, since having a thirty year old cabin boy wouldn't make a lot of sense. Anyway, I'm pretty nervous about this one, I'll admit, so I'll just leave it at that and leave you guys alone to read. Hope you enjoy it!_

_**Disclaimer: **__I own a very large nothing._

**Chapter I:**

"_I don't want to be a soldier who the captain of some sinking ship would stow, far below."_

_-Violet Hill, by Coldplay-_

Jonathan lay still, giving his vision the time it needed to adjust to the ever present darkness that was his sleeping arrangements. Every night for the past month, he would drag his battered feet to the deck below, doing his best to remember where objects were so that he would not, once again, stub his toe in the dark. Of course, loose items scarcely remain in one place on a ship, as the waves that rock the vessel make sure to send them flying about. Hence, the kid would always manage to stumble over a lone barrel, tattered nets, or anything else that seemed insistent upon blocking his path.

That, and the small fact that the boy was simply clumsy.

Even so, when he _did_ finally make it to his hammock, he would never go to sleep; just lay still and wait for his eyes to adjust to the shadows, and only when he could see the hand in front of his face did he allow himself to drift.

It's not that he was afraid of the dark; he just liked to know where he was. Because really, it wasn't very logical to float off into your own imaginary dream world without knowing where you currently were in reality. Unfortunately for Jonathan, he had, had to learn that the hard way.

It was about a month ago when they came; the Pirates, or as his mother liked to call them, Cut Throats. It was in the middle of the night when they entered their small town. Whoever had been on duty had fallen asleep, very unaware of the large ship that made port and the mass of pirates that followed after.

They bombarded their homes; crashing through windows, banging down doors, and filling their hands with whatever seemingly valuable item their eyes landed on.

If you got in their way, you were dead.

Yes, these pirates were undoubtedly cut throats. No mercy. No compassion. They were in and out with what they wanted, no looking back.

Villagers scattered as they continued to break down their homes, setting fires to the ones whose owners had fought against them. Jonathan's mother snuck out as the first loud crash echoed through their small living arrangements, her older son Daniel right behind her.

And right behind him, Jonathan.

The three curved and bent and twisted their way through the masses, trying to reach the town's "Safe Place." Through the confusion and the chaos, John decided to do what he always did to slip away from the pressures of reality: day dream. It wasn't supposed to make things worse, honest to God it wasn't. He was just imagining; pretending the current situation wasn't as bad as it really was. Perhaps they were on a quest; some massive group outing in which he and his town were about to embark on a magical adventure. Something. Anything other than what was taking place.

But he had let his mind wander just a little too far, and by the time he had brought himself back to reality, it was too late. He had lost hold of his older brother's hand, and even worse, he had lost sight of where his family members had gone amongst the crowd.

Before he could take in where he was, before he could even attempt to relocate them, rusty metal met his throat in one ragged motion, pressing against his skin as hard as it possibly could without making an incision. "Follow quietly or die," the voice whispered dangerously against his ear.

He obeyed.

Through screaming crowds and weeping children, he followed the man who reeked of old fish and grimy sea water to the very place he and the rest of the town had been avoiding: The pirate ship.

It was nothing magnificent, nothing like the ones that had been described to him through story books. In fact, if pirates and the adventures that followed were any thing like the stories he had been led to believe, then this really wouldn't be too bad. He had dreamt of some grand adventure for years; something to come and remove him from his small and desolate town, but this…this wasn't what he dreamt of at all.

The ship looked old, too old to be out at sea. It smelled of the man he currently followed, and its sails were tattered beyond the point of repair. How was the ship even sailing?

The soiled man was suddenly behind him, urging him forward. While the man's nudging was surprisingly not too forceful, Jonathan still managed to stumble, landing with a small thump on his knees. The splinting wood grated his tender skin, causing him to let out a small hiss of pain.

"He's a good age, right?"

The brown haired boy looked up then, instantly brought back to the moment by the very same voice who had threatened to kill him only…how many minutes ago? Perhaps not minutes. Perhaps hours. He could no longer tell.

But his eyes did not meet the pirate who had brought him here, but another pirate. He was small in stature, and while Jonathan was still a young lad, he was sure that if he were not on his knees, he'd be taller than him. The man wore a very large tricorn hat, and the little hair that peeked its way through was undoubtedly gray. He had a bit of a belly on him, but Jonathan had seen bigger. The word _Captain_ rang through the boy's mind, as this man in front of him was undoubtedly the pirate in charge.

Very suddenly, he smirked, and Jonathan had to look back down at the wooden planks, unable to avoid the slight shiver that ran up his spine from the evil that came off of this so called captain before him.

"For once, Theodore, you managed to not screw up. Yes, he's the perfect age."

Jonathan kept his gaze steady on the planks, knees shaking ever so slightly against the wood they were pressed upon. He stayed like that until a hand from behind took hold of his shoulder, hoisting him up onto his feet. The young man stiffened, though inwardly congratulated himself for guessing correctly. Now that he was standing face to face with the captain, he could say for sure he was taller.

"What is your name?"

_A demand, not a question._ The boy swallowed. "Jonathan Michael Dorian, sir."

"And how old are you?"

"Eleven, sir."

The captain's eyes actually widened some at this. He looked to the man behind Jonathan, who backed up a step. The brunet boy turned to look at him too, and instead of feeling a swell of fear for the man who had earlier threatened to kill him, he felt something remotely close to pity

The poor guy, Theodore if he remembered correctly, looked just as shaken to be on the ship as he did. Balding and covered in sweat, he gave the captain what could only be described as "sad eyes," before replying to the unspoken question that lingered in the air around them. "Captain, please. You said yourself he was the perfect age, so surely you can see why I mistook him for younger than he appears…?"

"Enough of your excuses, Theodore! No woman or man ever cared."

The balding man openly deflated, but not before giving Jonathan a quick and apologetic look.

The captain cleared his throat loudly, bringing the two before him back to attention. "Eleven…is that right, boy?"

"Y-Yes, sir."

"You look no more than eight, but you'll do fine, I suppose."

"I'll do fine for what, sir?"

"It's Captain, not 'sir,' and you'll _do_ whatever I ask of you, are we clear?"

Jonathan wasn't, but he nodded anyway.

"As I was saying," the captain continued. "We're in need of a new cabin boy, and guess what? You get the job. And in case you're wondering what this new position of yours entails, allow me to elaborate: Cleaning the ship, listening to every order that comes from my mouth, and my favorite part of all: Absolutely _no_ pay. Keep this in mind; you are not a crew member, just a cabin boy. Are we clear?"

This time he was. More than clear actually, as the rules were sounding all too familiar to the jobs he had back home.

"Wonderful," the captain responded sarcastically.

So for the next very long, very tiring month, Jonathan did all that was told of him. It wasn't like he had to do it _all_ by himself, as each and every crew member were required to clean the ship, but he definitely got the brunt of the work, not to mention the poor boy was never paid for all the hard labor. And because Jonathan was indeed a growing young man, he needed the right nutrients, the right food. But all that was remotely edible was given to the crew members, while the Captain dined on the finest in his cabin. So John made do with the leftovers, closing his eyes and swallowing hard as the dreaded food (if you could even call it that) made it's slimy, lumpy way down his throat.

And here he was now, at the end of his first month aboard the rotting vessel that was _The Fractured Enid, _lying alone, cold and sore in his too small hammock – praying, wishing – for something or someone to come and take him away.

Jonathan immediately regretted that desire.

A very abrupt, very loud crash awoke him from his half asleep state. The ship rocked forcefully, and John was able to manage a deep breath before his body freed itself from the hammock, colliding against the far off wall.

Ignoring the strong ache the collision had left pounding against his ribs, Jonathan scrambled to his feet and ran to the upper deck. The sight that awaited him made him wish he had stayed right where he was.

A storm raged over them, chaotic and violent. Lightening had struck the main mast, which was now lying haphazardly across the ship. Crew members were scattering, and no matter how hard he tried, John could not get a one of them to stop. He just wanted to know what was going on, what it was he should do. Were they fleeing? Were they leaving the already broken down vessel to be swallowed by the waves? Were they aiming to repair the damage? To fight against the storm and make their way to safety?

But not one of his unspoken questions received an answer, for just at that very moment, another ferocious bolt of lightening came crashing into the ship, mere inches from where Jonathan stood standing. While he narrowly avoided nature's attack, he was unable to avoid what followed after.

Literally half of the ship, the very half he'd been standing on, separated itself from the rest of the vessel, falling hopelessly into the water below. John couldn't tell if time had slowed, or if things were progressing too quickly. All he knew for sure was this: He was going to die.

He'd never be able to see his mother and brother. He'd never be able to tell them how much he really loved them; that he was safe. A little beat up, but safe. He'd never be able to fulfill the one dream he had clung to for years; to go on a _real_ adventure. Pirates or no, he never cared. But he had craved for so long a chance to break free of his village; to see new wonders, to meet new people. And ironically enough, the very thing that had taken him away from his home (much darker and lonelier than he'd ever imagined) would now be the cause of his death.

Jonathan took one final breath, bracing himself for the icy cold water that was about to engulf him. He felt his body hit something hard and rugged, and then felt the sting and force behind the water that surrounded him almost immediately.

He was done. He was undoubtedly going to die.

--

Calloused hands brushed away loose strands of curly hair, letting out an aggravated sigh at the sea before him. The last month had been completely uneventful, and Percival found himself beyond bored.

"C-Captain?"

The man let out a small growl before turning to look at their newest crew member. "What is it nervous guy?"

"I-It's Douglas, sir. Douglas Murphy."

Was this kid for real? Percival turned his attention back towards the ocean, closing his eyes in quiet frustration. "I know your name, kid, I just don't care. Now tell me what you have to tell me or leave."

"I-I, um…"

Percival let out a warning growl, much louder than his last. He could feel rather than see the kid jump, and was instantly rewarded with the boy's explanation, even if it was said in a rather panicked tone. "I-I was up in the crow's nest like you instructed, and-and I saw s-some things…"

"What '_things_?'" he asked annoyed, still not turning to face him.

"W-Wreckage, Captain. A ship that looks like it may have e-exploded. And I, um…should we pass it? Or should w-we anchor, to take a look...? Could be some valuables floating around in the f-flotsam."

A ship that appeared to have exploded, huh? Could be a number of things. Gun powder accident, an attack (though by pirates, bounty hunters, or the navy, he wasn't sure) or even a storm. But still, if the ship was nothing more than floating heaps of wood, why stop to look? Still, Percival was bored. Even if they didn't find anything of value, maybe they could find some needed necessities. God knows they could use it, what with not having made port in three or so months.

"And where is this so called wreckage?"

"N-Not too far from here, Captain. A little ways east."

Percival turned his gaze to the pointed direction and squinted. Well whaddya know? Nervous guy was right. Far up ahead, he was just barely able to make out what was once a ship; clouds of smoke and patches of fire circling the area. Turning his attention to the sky, he noticed a mass of gray clouds, slowly rolling away from the disastrous scene before them. _Storm then,_ Percival noted to himself. Walking towards the edge of his own vessel, the red headed man peered over. Chunks of wood and soiled sails floated along the water; ragged and worn. The captain looked up again at the approaching scene, slowly becoming clearer and clearer. _No way anyone survived that,_ he thought grimly. Then again, he should probably consider himself lucky, right? Storms out here were devastating, and they had managed to avoid what appeared to be a fierce one. And who's to say the ship that got torched would have passed them without any problems if all were still alive and well? Even if the vessel had been sailing under the Jolly Roger, it still could've been a problem.

The Navy had a bad habit of assuming that all pirates got along, most likely under the impression that all were set out solely to destroy their "peaceful," civilization, but that was one hundred percent untrue. Sure, almost every ship, pirate or no, had comrades out there on the sea, but that didn't mean every captain under the same flag would automatically be of the same mind…

"C-Captain?"

Percival turned around sharply, crossing his arms and flicking his nose in the process. The new crew member jumped again, but the curly haired captain ignored it. "Listen here, nervous guy. I need you to climb up to the crow's nest – yes, again – and make sure no one else is sailing towards that wreckage. Tell the others what we're aiming for, and try not to piss yourself on the way, understand?"

As Douglas scurried away to do as he was told, a loud, well toned laughter filled the captain's ears. He bit back a grin, pretending not to be grateful for the sudden appearance of his first mate. "What're _you_ laughing at Benjamin?"

He watched from the corner of his eye as the only person he ever called "friend" took hold of the wheel, aiming towards the broken down ship with much more enthusiasm than necessary. "You! You and the whole, 'Grr, I'm the Captain!' thing you got going on."

"I _am_ the captain, Benji."

"Aw, see? Now that's just cold. Why hurt me?"

Percival snorted. His friend almost had the whole puppy dog guilt thing mastered, if it wasn't for the small fact that he could just barely keep a straight face while doing so. "You're not hurt, and you know it."

"Okay, so I'm not upset. But still…_Benji?_ What if I started calling you 'Captain Cox?'

"That's Captain Percival."

"What about Captain Perry?"

"No."

"Captain Per-Per?"

"_No._ Now why are you over here again?"

"To take the wheel, obviously. And to lecture you about being mean to the new kid."

"Nervous guy?"

"Yeah, that's the one. Poor kid looks like he's about ready to piss his pants."

Percival snickered. "Called that one, didn't I?"

"Listen, Captain, I get it. I always have. You need to show them you're in charge. But do you honestly think they don't know that by now? Why do you think almost everyone who turns pirate, either willingly or unwillingly, searches high and low until they find you?"

"Because _the Sacred Heart_ is the finest vessel to ever sail these waters?"

"Maybe, but no. You're legend, my friend! The pirate who never kills, but somehow _still_ manages to get the gold. Captain Percival, leader of the underdogs! Turning boys into men! Fierce, but loyal! Strong! Brave! Completely - !"

"Okay, I get it!"

Benjamin watched with suppressed laughter as a small grin made its way across his captain's face. If there was one sure fire way to get Percival to listen, it was to feed that super sized ego of his. Not that any of what he said was untrue, but still… "So do you get it? You don't have to be mean and domineering just to prove you're in charge. Everybody already knows!"

The grin his captain wore vanished almost immediately, and Benjamin inwardly sighed, knowing that Percival was gearing up for a rant. "Listen, Ben – there are certain aspects to my so called 'legend,' that give me all the more reason to bite down and bite down hard on all the quivering little peons that come aboard this ship. Because it's very well known that I almost _always_ get what I'm after, the new crew members come on this vessel thinking it'll be all fun and games; that they can sit back and down rum and not do a damn thing to help, yet somehow, magically, will still be rewarded with piles of gold and rubies. Nee-_hot_ how it works. They need to get their asses in gear and pull their weight. And you know that whole, 'The Pirate Who Doesn't Kill' bit? I'm proud of that, I am, but these morons get it in their head that, that means I'm some frilly wearing, flower giving captain who will let any and everyone cross me without a second thought. Which is a ra-_heely_ dangerous assumption. For them of course, not me. So you see, _Benji,_ I really have no choice in the matter. And if they don't like my leadership, then they are more than welcome to leave when we next make port, but until then, they better suck it up and deal."

Benjamin sighed, knowing very well he had lost this round. "Okay, okay. I see your point. But, and I know this is going to sound _crazy_, but maybe once in a while, you could be nice to someone other than me?"

"We'll see," Percival mumbled, and Ben couldn't help but smile. Even if it wasn't one hundred percent sincere, it was the closest thing he had ever gotten to a yes.

It was only a matter of minutes after the exchange that the ship reached the wreckage. Benjamin openly flinched at the site, while Percival's brows furrowed in an attempt to keep his emotions in check.

It was much worse than he had previously imagined.

The storm had destroyed everything. There was no site of anything valuable; not even a few barrels of rum bobbing up and down in the waves. And as he guessed, but secretly hoped he'd be proven wrong, there was not a single sign of life.

"Uh…Perry?"

Percival turned, taken aback and a little offended that his friend would forgo his title and stick to the nickname he hated at a time like this. "What?" he asked sharply.

Slowly, he followed his first mate's gaze. About twenty yards away from the burnt down ship itself, something – _someone_ – was just barely holding on to a scrap of wood, the waves pushing him further and further away. Dead or alive, he couldn't tell, but there was just no way he was going to sail in the other direction.

Percival immediately began barking orders, and Ben didn't need to be told more than once to make his way towards the body.

"Christopher!"

"Captain?"

"Go down to the hold and grab the box of drugs. In fact, grab the surgical instruments while you're down there too.

"Right away."

"You! Big guy!"

"My name is -"

"Be quiet and listen! You and I are to go overboard and get the body. Is the long boat ready to be lowered?"

"Yes, Captain."

"Good. Now come on."

Percival and No-Name climbed onto the boat and were quickly lowered down into the waters. They paddled to the body in a hurry, making it in record time. The person in question hadn't been holding onto the plank, just simply slouched over it. The red headed captain reached out and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him carefully into the boat. The taller man, a crew member of only a few weeks, watched on, curious. He had never seen his captain act so…hurried. He seemed almost frazzled now, but was handling the body with a gentleness he didn't even know his superior possessed.

Once they were back onto _the_ _Sacred Heart_, Percival laid the boy down on his back, inwardly wincing. The kid was so damn young. He looked so…so _fragile._ Quickly, he searched for a pulse. His own heart began to race when he felt nothing.

Why was he acting so bewildered, so distraught? Upon entering the life of piracy, he had seen more than his fair share of death, but at least he had never caused it. And the lives he did see destroyed, well…there was no way he could've saved them, nothing he could've done. But now? Now he was being given a chance to help, to save; much like the life he was a part of before all of this…

The older man's lips met the boys cold ones as he bent over, willing the battered young lad to breathe. "C'mon kid, c'mon!"

Nothing.

Percival pushed on the young man's chest, cursing and praying all the while. "Breathe – for – me – damn it!"

And he did.

The boy's eyes shot open, wide and frightened, yet clearly unseeing. Percival rolled him onto his side, allowing the ice cold water to pour from his lungs. He patted the kids back, willing all the water to escape, repeating over and over for him to cough and breathe, cough and breathe. The child obeyed, and by the time the water had left his lungs, he was once again unconscious, but at least this time, he was breathing.

"Captain?"

Percival closed his eyes. He was too relieved at the living body before him to be annoyed. "What is it, Christopher?"

"I have the drugs and the tools."

"Go into my cabin and put the drugs on my desk. The tools we won't be needing."

Christopher nodded, and while the captain hadn't told him to do so, he left the cabin door wide open. It made things much easier when both Percival and Benjamin carried the boy's body to place him gently on the bed.

--

**Nautical terms:**

_Cut Throats_ – Ruthless pirates.

_Cabin Boy_ – A young boy who worked aboard pirate ships as a servant. Many cabin boys made their way aboard ships by being kidnapped by pirates or were runaways looking for means of escape.

_The Main Mast_ – The highest point of the ship; where the Jolly Roger flag flies.

_The Crow's Nest_ – A lookout. Someone can see enemy ships from twice as far away as a sailor can from the deck below.

_The Hold_ – Where supplies are kept, such as food, water, extra sails and ropes, spare lumber for making repairs to the ship, gunpowder and ammunition. Also kept in the hold is a chest of drugs and surgeon's instruments to treat the wounded.

--

_**A/N:**_ _Well…what do you guys think? I know, I know. Definitely a little strange, but hopefully it was good enough (or at least interesting enough) to grab your attention. Oh, and I know Dr. Cox hates the name Percival even more than he does Perry on the show, but back then, that name wouldn't have been so odd. And "Captain Cox," reminded me way too much of the cereal "Captain Crunch." lol Anyway, don't hesitate to tell me what you think, though I do hope you stick with me on this one. Until next time!_


	2. Chapter II

_**A/N: **__Wow! I'm completely and utterly blown a way from the feedback I've received for this story so far. Seriously, I am beyond happy that you guys seem so excited for this, and am sincerely appreciative for all of your kind reviews. They mean a lot to me, I assure you. Anyway, before we begin here, I thought I'd go ahead and address a question that was asked a couple of times. I feel bad because I really thought I mentioned this beforehand, so I'm really sorry if you're disappointed by this, but this story is going to be pairing-less. The main relationship in this story will be the one between Captain Percival and young Jonathan Dorian, but it'll be in a father/son dynamic rather than slash. I hope that you'll still stick with me nonetheless, and that if you were looking forward to that, that you're not too disappointed. Oh! And for those of you who were wondering, I plan on updating this story every Friday. Sound good? Anyway, that's about it from me. Hope you enjoy chapter two!_

_**Disclaimer:**_ _I own a very large nothing._

**Chapter II:**

"_You came and saved me tonight; defending all my life. Whoa, now I'm content with my breath 'cause I'm alive."_

_-Saved, by The Spill Canvas-_

Hours passed, and the boy had yet to waken.

The first hour had definitely been the worst. After Percival and Benjamin placed the mystery child on the bed, the captain went straight to work. He removed the boy of his shirt, and could see his first mate wince right beside him. His ribs were badly bruised, and scars littered the kid's pale flesh. Some of them were clearly created by the explosion; nothing too surprising there. But others had obviously existed before the accident, as they were currently in the healing process. The marks by the actual shipwreck varied though. None of them were fatal, but some of them were deep enough to need mending. He called Christopher back immediately, asking him to re-locate the surgical implements.

While he waited for the crewman to return, he gently pressed his fingers along the boy's ribs, searching for any signs of a break. Nothing appeared to be broken, but he wouldn't know for sure until the kid was up and able to testify to how much pain he was really in.

The crewman came back then, chest of tools in hand. The captain took the box with a short nod and began his work. After using the numbing solution on the scars he'd need to stitch up, it was time to apply the needle and thread.

"Can I watch?"

Percival turned then, surprised. He hadn't even realized Christopher was still standing there. "Do you see this, Baldy? It's a needle. A needle that I was _just about_ to thread into this boy's skin. Considering you just startled me when I was only an inch away from doing so, which inevitably would have caused the kid _more_ damage, the answer is no. No, you cannot watch. Now get!"

Christopher turned to Benjamin, who offered him a shrug and a "You know the Captain," kind of grin. The bald man proceeded to kick an imaginary object, but when Percival let out a small growl from beside the young man's bed, he decided it was time to leave.

"I think he's interested in medicine, Captain," Benjamin said once he was sure Christopher had left. "Surely you can relate…"

"Ben, I'm busy here!"

"Right, right. Anything you need?"

"Yes, actually. The kid's skin is pretty hot. If you could bring me a damp cloth of some kind, I'd appreciate it. We can't let his fever spike, especially not in his current condition."

"Aye, aye."

By the time Percival was done with the stitches (only four of the several scars had been deep enough that they needed repairing) Ben was back with the requested item and more. "What's all that?" the captain asked while placing the moistened fabric on the boy's forehead.

"Some fresh water for when he wakes, extra blankets, and a thing of last night's leftover broth I found in the galley. You know…the usual 'sick person,' stuff."

Percival rolled his eyes, but the small grin he now wore gave him away.

"No problem," Ben said with a smirk, knowing very well what it was the captain couldn't say. "Just call me if you need anything. I'm gonna go take hold of the wheel for a while."

Percival nodded, and then Ben was out the door.

But all of this had taken place hours ago, and still the boy lay unconscious, the red headed man ever present by his side.

--

The first thing he noticed was that he was noticing things at all.

Dead people couldn't notice things, right? Especially when they were thousands of feet below the surface, surrounded only by passing fish and ice cold waters.

Wait…what?

Maybe he _wasn't_ dead, even though he did feel sickly cold… Besides an odd dampness that seemed to cover his body – sweat maybe? – and the refreshing feeling of something cool upon his forehead, he didn't feel like he was encased in water. And if he wasn't encased in water, then surely he could breathe.

And breathe he did.

His lips parted, the feel of cool, fresh air filling his lungs. He opened his mouth again, but a very loud, very abrupt scream cut him off.

"Calm down, kid, it's okay. You're okay. Calm down. That's right. Good. Good, good. Big breaths, now. Nice big breaths. There ya' go. Easy, easy…good. Good."

Okay, so apparently that scream was from him. But why did he scream? He was alive, wasn't he? And where did that voice come from? Why did it go? He hadn't been able to register everything it'd been telling him, but it was nice; comforting…

He shivered suddenly, the cold feeling from before coming back. The dampness on his forehead was removed, but replaced shortly after. A coolness, refreshing rather than sickening, soaked against his skin and he sighed, suddenly very aware that he had stopped screaming.

"Can you open your eyes?"

There it was. That voice. He couldn't tell if he was just imagining it or not, but he liked it nonetheless. Oh right, the question. He opened his mouth to reply, but instead of hearing what was supposed to be a "yes," he heard a small, quiet whimper.

Suddenly, he was aware of footsteps. Huh, maybe the voice _was_ more than just a hallucination. He hoped so. It was rough around the edges, yes, but there seemed to be this underlying tone of, well, kindness. Something he wasn't particularly used to receiving.

He let out a small gasp of surprise as he felt his head being lifted up, a steady palm placed firmly on the back of his scalp. "Shhh, you're fine."

He liked this person. Maybe that was another reason he didn't want to open his eyes. You know…_besides_ the searing pain that was currently coursing through his body. But what if he opened his eyes, and the illusion was shattered because of it?

Fresh water hit his lips and he opened automatically, tilting his head back to assist whoever was helping him drink.

"Easy there, kid. Not too much at once."

When his response was a chorus of painful coughs, he realized why it was he'd been instructed not to down the whole thing in two seconds.

The voice's owner laid his head back down on the pillow and spoke. "I know it hurts, and if it's too painful to talk right now, then that's fine, but it would help me out a lot if you could open your eyes. Then I could at least see if you're registering any of what I'm saying."

The voice definitely held an authoritative air, but it wasn't cold. Hell, it wasn't even mean. And he found himself not wanting to disappoint that voice; ever.

"I-I can talk…" While it was true his body ached terribly, he was surprised how much of it showed in his tone; how strained it sounded.

"Good lad. Now, can you open your eyes?"

Slowly, hesitantly, he opened them.

Above him a man stood watching, blue eyes looking back at his own in an odd mixture of relief and concern. Curly red hair – rusty red, the young boy decided – lay skewed and tossed about, as if the man had run his fingers through them just one too many times. His face was clean shaven, but somehow…rugged. The contours of his features; his neck, his shoulders…he was older, but not _old._ The age he was seeing in this man was something only life could bring; experience. But experience in what? From the looks of him, a lot of things…

And yet…while he admittedly felt intimidated by the man who currently stared down at him, he couldn't help but feel…safe. Confused maybe, but still safe.

The man offered him a small but genuine smile. He tried to return it with his own, but ended up letting out a small hiss of pain instead. "Sorr –"

"Were you actually about to apologize for being in _pain!?_"

The boy nodded, slightly taken aback. Though it really _would_ have been a rather silly thing to apologize for.

The curly haired man just sighed as he looked the boy over, finally bringing his gaze back to once again meet his own. "Do you remember your name?" he finally asked.

"Jonathan," he answered hesitantly. "Jonathan Michael Dorian."

"Jonathan," the older man repeated, as if testing the name out for himself. After a moment, he rubbed a calloused hand through his hair, and let out what was almost an inaudible sigh. "Well, I'm glad you're awake. Honestly, it's a relief. I'm Percival, by the way. Captain Percival, if we're going for accuracy here."

"C-Captain?"

Percival nodded. "That's right. Now, do you remember what happened to you?"

"I-I was about to go to sleep and…the hammock! I was in my hammock, but then the ship rocked, and I ran up to the main deck to see what was happening. The mast, it…it fell. On it's side. Everyone was running, and I couldn't make out what was going on besides the storm. And then something flashed – lightening – and I…I fell…"

"Mmm…that sounds about right."

"W-What do you mean?"

"We found you, quite a few hours ago as a matter of fact. You were just hanging on to one of the planks from the ship, bobbing along the waves. We went out on the long boat and got you just in time, and I gotta tell ya' kid – you're lucky. You're a bit banged up, not to mention the initial shock and the steady fever, and the healing process is going to be painful, yeah, but the fact that you're even lying here breathing is one hee-_hell_ of an achievement after that fall you took."

Jonathan swallowed as a sudden wave of various emotions took hold of him. He had been so _sure_ he was going to die, and yet, here he was. Bruised, scratched, but still very much alive. And these people…these people who had absolutely no obligation to save him did just that – they saved him. And this man before him, who'd been undoubtedly attending to his tattered body, helping him heal…how was he supposed to respond to that?

"I...I, um…thank you."

Percival nodded, a small smile gracing his lips. "No problem, kid. Just one more thing before you go back to bed."

Jonathan startled awake. He hadn't even realized he'd been drifting off, but oh _God_ was he feeling exhausted… He looked back to the captain, blinking hard to keep his eyes open. Maybe his vision was fooling him out of a sudden desperation for sleep, but was Percival actually looking at him with amusement? And not the "mocking you" kind. No, he'd definitely recognize that if he saw it.

But the amusement he may or may not have noticed was suddenly gone, replaced with a seriousness he had yet to see on the man standing over him. "Was the ship that you fell from under the command of the Navy, or sailing under the Jolly Roger?"

"Jolly Roger, sir."

Percival may have thanked him. He may have even said to get some rest, but Jonathan couldn't tell. He had already slipped back into a reassured sleep.

--

When the boy next opened his eyes, he was greeted with another individual watching him. It wasn't the Captain though, which made him feel oddly disappointed. Still, whoever this was grinning down at him now seemed like a nice enough guy.

"Hey there, kid!"

"H-Hi…?"

The man chuckled, light hearted amusement dancing in his eyes. "Name's Benjamin, but you can call me Ben."

"Hi, Ben. I'm Jonathan."

The blue eyed man nodded as he made himself comfortable on the edge of the bed, grin still plastered to his face. "Yup, Captain already let us know after you fell asleep again. The crew's pretty happy, too. A lot of them thought you were a goner." At seeing the kid's eyes widen slightly, Benjamin continued. "You weren't breathing for a couple of seconds there, but I knew you'd be alright."

"You did?"

Ben nodded. "Captain Percival knows what he's doing. I knew he wouldn't let you go on him. Not that'd it'd be his fault if you did, but –"

"Where is he?"

Ben looked towards John, surprised at the question. The kid instantly flushed. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt. Go on."

But the older man just went back to grinning, that playful amusement still glowing in his eyes. "It's alright, kid, relax. The Captain's in the galley, getting some food. I wouldn't be surprised if he bought some up for you too."

"Doesn't he eat at the same time as everyone else?"

"Well yeah, normally. But he stayed in here to watch you for a good two hours since you last fell asleep. He pulled me in here to take up the job until he got back."

Jonathan didn't know how to respond. Why was this man going through so much trouble just to make sure he recovered all right? What did he ever do to deserve such kind treatment? "I…Wow, that's really –"

The door swung open as the man in question came into the cabin, two bowls of soup in hand. Upon noticing Jonathan's eyes on his own, he gave a slight nod. "Good to see you're awake, kid. Feeling any better?"

The brunet shifted a little. His body was still very sore, but he felt much more alert. Refreshed, even. "Yeah, I think so."

"Can you sit up?"

Jonathan tried to, surprising himself at how eager he was to please this still rather mysterious person, but he found his ribs to be just a little more sore than he originally predicted. Even more surprising than his eagerness, though, was when the captain handed the bowls of soup to Ben in order to help him sit all the way up. "Good lad," he whispered quietly.

Jonathan relaxed a little, his back pressed up comfortably against the pillows that were provided for him. He watched as the captain took a seat on the side of his bed next to Benjamin, but not before handing him one of the bowls of soup. Which, by the way, smelled _extremely _good. "Thank you," he said softly, and Percival just nodded. Ben had already eaten apparently, as he seemed in no rush to get a helping of his own.

The warmth radiating from the bowl brought Jonathan's attention to its contents, and…oh, dear _Lord!_ This wasn't just three day old broth. This was actual soup! It was _packed_ with meat and potatoes, chunks of various vegetables floating in the liquid as well. He _never_ ate like this on _the Fractured Enid._ Hell, he barely ate like this back home!

Without even thinking it through, Jonathan tipped the bowl back and opened his mouth wide. He barely stopped to chew as he thought on each magnificent morsel that sat on his tongue and slid down his throat, giving his stomach a fine, warm sensation he hadn't felt in months.

When he brought the bowl back down to his lap, he was met with two sets of very wide eyes, staring at him. Jonathan flushed as the Captain held up a spoon. "I was going to give you one, you know…" Ben just snickered as the kid's blush deepened.

"S-Sorry…"

"You have to stop with the apologizing, kid. You're fine. I assure you. It's actually a relief to see that you're even hungry."

"Oh, well…okay then."

"When was the last time you even ate anything?" Ben asked suddenly, interrupting the pair.

"A couple hours before the storm. I had some of the crew's left over broth."

John looked away then, just in time to miss the small exchange of glances that took place between Percival and Benjamin. The Captain whistled suddenly, surprising the young brunet and bringing him back to attention. "Kid, I need you to be honest with me for a second here, okay?"

Jonathan nodded, a little confused, but the Captain continued to speak. "What was your position on that ship of yours?"

"Cabin Boy."

Percival nodded, clearly having known before asking. "Thought so…you're the right age for it anyway, not to mention the obvious signs of malnutrition."

"How old are you anyway?" Ben intervened.

"Eleven."

Once again, John found himself turning scarlet under the surprised gaze of the two men before him.

"'Eleven!?'" Ben asked astonished. "You look more like nine! Ten, maybe, tops."

"At least your guess was closer than his…"

Percival raised a curious eyebrow. "'His?'"

"Captain Robert."

If Jonathan didn't think Percival's eyes could expand anymore, well…he was just proven wrong.

"Robert," the curly haired man repeated. "Robert. As in Bob. As in Bob Kelso. Kid…was this guy's last name Kelso?"

Jonathan titled his head to the side and thought. He couldn't remember hearing the scary old man referred to as anything other than Captain Robert. But then Percival asked a question that solved the mystery. "Was his first mate a bald sweaty guy? Real nervous. Constantly looking like he wanted to jump overboard?"

"Yeah!" he exclaimed suddenly. Realizing how odd he sounded at answering that type of question with such enthusiasm, he squirmed again, uncomfortable. "Um, y-yeah…he's the one who originally captured me."

This time Jonathan caught the look both the Captain, and who he had now figured out was his first mate, give each other before Ben stood up, waved happily, and left. John turned back to Percival, confused.

"Benjamin is the only person in this God forsaken world that I'd trust with my own life, but I can't expect you to feel the same way since you just met him now, can I? To be honest, I don't expect you to trust me yet either, but what I'm about to ask you could be something you'd like to keep private, so I asked him to leave."

John really wouldn't have minded Ben's presence, nor could he think of a reason _not_ to trust the Captain who had voluntarily saved his life, but he was rather moved by the man's gesture, so he nodded his thanks.

"Alright, kid," the red head continued. "Now I gotta ask: Exactly what happened to you?"

So Jonathan told him of the cut throats' invasion, of the sweaty pirate Theodore holding the rusty dagger to his neck and hauling him aboard _the Fractured Enid._ How for the last month, John had been forced to play the ships cabin boy. He was surprised when Percival interrupted him just to let him know that not all cabin boys were treated the way he'd been, but then he just shook his head and allowed him to continue with the story. When he reached the part about the storm, he trailed off. That part of the tale didn't need repeating.

"Robert Kelso…" Percival finally managed to growl after John had finished with his story. "That rat bastard is the poorest excuse for a captain if there ever was one. No. Scratch that. He's the poorest excuse for a human being. Kelso, to put it lightly, is the devil."

Jonathan didn't say anything. Even though he knew the older man was dead, he still had a fear of openly disrespecting him. To be frank, he was quite afraid of him.

"Don't worry, kid." The boy looked up, realizing quite suddenly that the captain had been studying him rather intently. And if he wasn't mistaken, it looked as though his face wore an expression of sympathy. "I run this vessel much differently than Beelzebub," Percival continued. "You'll find _the Sacred Heart_ to be much sturdier than _the Fractured Enid_ as well, even if the old gal has seen better days…"

"Thank you, Captain."

Percival nodded as he stood from his place on the bed. After walking over to his desk, he came back with, well…something. He handed it to John quietly, who in turn looked up at him, puzzled.

"It's just medicine, don't worry. It'll numb the pain for a while and make it easier for you to sleep tonight."

"Sleep…in here? In your bed!? But –"

"Relax, okay? I don't always sleep in here anyway. I have a hammock out on the main deck. It's right near the wheel, just in case whatever incompetent peon is ordered to steer after dark decides to fall asleep while doing so."

"I, um…okay, then. Thank you, and sor –"

"What did I say about cutting down on the apologies?"

"To stop…?"

"Exactly. Now here, take this."

Jonathan threw back the small vile as Percival handed him a cup of water. While the Captain went about grabbing spare blankets for the kid and himself (as it was sure to get colder out there on the deck) the brunet felt his aches and pains get comfortably numb, his vision blurring over as sleep made it's desire known.

He wondered vaguely how the Captain knew so much about medicine. How he knew what would help, the right amount to take, when and what was needed for so and so an injury. But still, he didn't want to sleep, at least not yet. As long as Percival was still in the room, he wanted to stay awake; to enjoy his company.

When the Captain turned to hand him another blanket, Jonathan couldn't help but giggle. He really didn't know why, but apparently, Percival did. The older man looked down at him and grinned, a hint of amusement lining his features. "Yeah, the medicine will do that."

"Do wha'?" he managed to slur.

Percival laughed a little, and the young boy followed suit, even if he still wasn't particularly sure what it was they were laughing about. "That," the Captain finally answered. "It'll make you kinda out of it. I suggest allowing yourself to do what your body's telling ya' and fall asleep."

Jonathan was more than willing to comply. "Mmkay…"

"Good. Now get some rest, kid. I'll see you in the morning."

The boy nodded as he watched his new captain leave the bedroom. It wasn't long at all before he felt his eye lids close, allowing much needed sleep to take over.

_**A/N:**_ _I know it probably seems like Perry is being too nice, but please remember – in this story, he's meeting JD as a patient (not to mention a younger version of him as well) rather than a nervous intern who's taken to following him around. However, never fear! He's going to have that Coxian attitude we've all come to know and love. His current behavior is…well, he's definitely _not _faking it, but – agh, I can't really say much without giving things away, so just please try and stick with me on this one. Anyway, that's about it from me. Until next time!_


	3. Chapter III

_**A/N: **Before we begin here, l__et me just once again start off by saying how thrilled I am at the feedback this story has been receiving. I'm more than glad you guys are enjoying it so far, and I hope it continues to entertain. :) Anyway, that's about it from me. Enjoy!_

_**Disclaimer:**_ _I own a very large nothing._

**Chapter III:**

"_I don't want to go out on my own anymore; I can't face the night like I used to before."_

_-Well Worn Hand, by the Editors-_

Jonathan awoke the next day with a small moan. While his first full night's sleep in months had refreshed him, the medicine he'd been given for his injuries had definitely worn off, and his body ached terribly.

Still, it was an enormous comfort to wake up and find himself in the Captain's cabin. Not because of the luxuries it had to offer – the safe, warm atmosphere – but because it confirmed that yesterday's events really _had_ happened. This was real; all of it. His rescue, the care, being free of his old captain, and yes, Captain Percival as well. He hadn't just dreamt it. It was _real._

A sudden knock at the door, but politely soft, made the young brunet startle. "C-Come in…?" Jonathan couldn't help but feel a little strange giving out his permission to enter a room he in no way owned. What if it was one of the crew members? What if, for one reason or another, the person who knocked wasn't allowed to come in? Surely the Captain would get mad at him for responding.

But it wasn't a crew member. It was Percival himself, and he seemed to be wearing a knowing grin as he took in the young boy before him, still sleepy eyed as he lay comfortably – but undoubtedly hurting – on the bed.

"Relax, kid. I wasn't sure if you were sleeping or not, so I knocked. And the crew knows to stay away from the cabin until you've recovered. Except for Ben obviously, but he's always the exception around here." Percival had said this last sentence with an eye roll, but Jonathan quietly sensed that the older man didn't quite mind it as much as he was trying to let on. "So," the Captain started up again, "How're you feeling?"

"I had a good sleep. Thank you for letting me use your bed."

"So that's a 'not so good,' then?"

"I, um…"

"When someone answers another question just to give a positive response, they're usually avoiding what was _originally_ asked, so they don't have to tell them the truth. Now c'mon, kid…how are you _really_ feeling?"

Jonathan blushed as he fiddled with the hem of the beds quilt, avoiding eye contact with the older man before him. "It still hurts…"

Percival nodded. "That's to be expected. It's not something you should lie about though, especially if you want to get better. I can't treat you properly if you don't let me know what's wrong."

Jonathan nodded, silently hating that, after all the Captain had done for him, he had chosen to lie to his face.

"Relax."

The boy looked up then, surprised at how quickly the older man's voice could go from authoritative to almost meditatively calm.

"It's okay, alright? You just woke up. You're tired. You're hurt. I get it, and I've dealt with it before. You're fine, trust me."

And Jonathan did. A lot actually; maybe more than was particularly wise of him to. But this man had already done so much for him. He couldn't help but feel safe in his presence. Unable to form these thoughts into words, the boy simply nodded.

"Good. Now c'mon, I'll help you sit up."

Jonathan was more than grateful to allow the Captain's assistance in getting him into a comfortable sitting position on the bed, as his ribs and cuts were still too tender to take on much movement, especially by himself. "Ben should be here with some breakfast in a couple of minutes," Percival said once the brunets back was resting comfortably against an upturned pillow. "Are you up for eating?"

The injured boy nodded eagerly. After months of eating muck that just barely passed for food, he was up for eating anything at anytime.

"Good to hear."

Jonathan, who had been getting ready to ask a question he remembered pondering over last night, was interrupted from doing so by a very sudden scream. "KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK!"

The brunet startled where he sat, while Percival just rolled his eyes. "Why don't you just _come in,_ Ben?"

"Because I'm holding two bowls of porridge, so KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK!"

The Captain marched to the door and swung it open, his face looking as though he wasn't sure whether or not he wanted to laugh or scowl at his first mates strange but endearing behavior. "Was that really called for?"

"Aye! Now where's our new but sick best friend?"

Percival crossed his arms, but not before giving his nose a solid flick. "Where do you think he is?" he asked incredulously.

"Hey, new friend!" Ben piped cheerily, ignoring the Captain's last comment. "Is porridge alright?"

Jonathan nodded eagerly. "Thank you, sir!" he answered politely, reaching out for the bowl being given to him. He was surprised, of course, when the first mate was suddenly pulling it back.

"Woah! 'Sir?' I'm not a sir! Way too formal, and that's just not me. Besides, I told ya'! Call me Ben! If you promise to not call me 'Sir,' again, you can even have your breakfast back."

"Benji! Stop bribing the kid with food! You know damn well he needs it."

"I didn't mean it like _that._ C'mon! I'd give it to him no matter what!" Ben turned back to Jonathan then, still grinning. "Though I would appreciate it if you could also refrain from calling me 'Benji,' as well."

"I-I'm sorry. I was just trying to be respectful."

Ben plopped down on the bed while handing the porridge to the boy in front of him, starting in on his own as he answered the kid's last comment. "Respectful is good, don't get me wrong, but I'm just not in to the whole 'Respect by titles and ranks,' thing. Ya' gotta give it to get it, if you ask me."

Jonathan nodded, though really, the man's words baffled him some. He'd never heard of such a way of thinking. He'd always been taught to respect those older than him, no matter what their behavior. He looked towards the Captain, trying to find a trace of disagreement with the first mate's last statement, but there was none. In fact, he thought he even noticed a small nod of approval.

"So Johnny, feeling any better?"

Jonathan tried not to cringe at the new nickname (he'd never liked being called that, even by his mother) and chose to focus on the wonderful warmth and flavor that was his porridge. "Everything still hurts, but I'm feeling a lot better than yesterday, thank you."

"Hey…did you just cringe because of the porridge, or because of something else?"

"What? No! I love the porridge. It's really good."

"Then why'd you cringe?"

"I, uh…"

"He doesn't like being called, 'Johnny,'" Percival intervened.

The two looked towards where the Captain was standing in observation, a smug little grin on his face from guessing correctly. "Relax, will ya'? I'm not a mind reader; just a damn good observer. You cringed a little when Benjamin here called you that. Guessing you're not a huge fan of certain nicknames either?"

Jonathan flushed, but nodded. "I wasn't going to say anything…"

"Why not?" Ben asked suddenly. "I just gave you two names not to call me by, right? So what're you comfortable with?"

"I geff Jonfan oh John."

"What…?"

The brunet found himself blushing again as he swallowed down a mouthful of porridge. "I guess Jonathan or John, if that's alright."

"What's your last name again?"

"Dorian."

"Then how about JD?"

"'JD?'"

"It's just a nickname, don't worry. Everyone on this ship has a nickname or two, even the Captain over there! Right Captain Per-Be –"

"If you so much as even _think_ about finishing that sentence, _Benji,_ I will take that bowl of porridge you're eating, empty it of it's contents, throw the bowl over your head as if it were a hat made _especially_ for you, and bang profusely on the side of it with your own damn spoon, understand?"

Ben smiled widely, but not before acting as though he was locking his lips in a comedic like fashion. After his show of no longer pissing off the Captain, the first mate turned back to the kid on the bed. "So is JD alright, then?"

"Um, sure! Yeah, that sounds pretty good. Definitely better than Johnny."

"Woo!" Ben shouted cheerily. "Points go to me for coming up with the kid's new nickname!"

Percival, who had finally uncrossed his arms and joined the two at the side of Jonathan's bed, grabbed hold of his first mates porridge and went about digging into it himself. "Hey!" Ben shouted in protest.

"I'm hungry, and you've had your fun in here for a while. Now go out there and make sure whoever's steering the wheel is keeping the course. I still don't trust half of those peons to actually do it right."

Ben pretended to pout, though his blue eyes were glittering with the delighted knowledge that he was, in fact, a person Percival actually trusted. He also couldn't help realizing that asking for his departure was probably a sign that he wanted to talk to the new kid by himself. "Well then, I'm off. See ya' later, JD. Enjoy the rest of your breakfast!"

John nodded gratefully, a sincere, happy smile gracing his features as he did so. Ben was definitely a weird guy, but he was a _nice_ weird guy, and even the strangest of his mannerisms came off as more endearing than peculiar.

A sudden whistle brought JD out of his reverie. He looked back to the Captain, still sitting on the edge of his bed and toying with his already empty bowl. "Listen kid, I asked ol' Benji to leave because I need to take a look at your injuries. I wasn't sure if you'd be comfortable with him here or not, as I'm guessing that having one person you're not particularly used to looking you over is already uncomfortable enough. The thing is, I need to treat your wounds, and to do that, I gotta be able to examine them."

Jonathan nodded his understanding. "No, it's okay. I expected you to, and I…I'm sorry about lying earlier."

"It's fine, kid, really. Now let's take a look at those stitches of yours."

JD placed his empty bowl to the side and removed the over sized shirt that had been given to him – most likely when he was first brought to the cabin and unconscious – by Percival. He sucked in his breath, expecting the calloused hands of the Captain to be rough and harsh on his wounds, but there was a surprising gentleness there as his fingers lightly prodded each individual rib. "Pain here?" the red headed man asked calmly.

"No."

"And this one?"

Jonathan let out a sharp hiss of pain, not having expected the smallest of nudges to cause such an effect. "Still sore," he managed, though at this point, Percival had already with drew his hand.

"That's not really surprising, what with the swelling and bruising surrounding that particular area. Still, it's good to check with the patient whether or not it still hurts. Sometimes injuries look a lot worse than they actually feel. Though the same could be said vice versa. Good news is that your stitches look like they're coming along just fine, and even the sorest of your ribs aren't actually broken."

"So I'm going to be okay? I mean…nothing's going to be, you know, permanent?"

Percival nodded as he went about grinding and mixing whatever it was he was working on by his small desk in the cabin. "You're going to be fine. In fact, since you're actually getting _food_ now, you'll probably be in better condition than you were before the fall."

"Really?"

The Captain gave a small smile as he walked back over to the bed, handing Jonathan a small cup of medicine as he did so. "Really. Now drink up, kid. That'll help numb the pain for a while."

"Is this the same stuff you gave me last night?"

"Yeah, so you're gonna end up feeling pretty tired as well. I know you just got up not too long ago, so if you want to hold off for a while before drinking it, that's fine."

JD peered at the cup of medicine, the face of the Captain's complete and utter concentration while having made it still very vivid in his mind. "No, I'll drink it now. Thank you, Captain."

Percival waved his hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it, kid. Get some rest, and I'll come check up on you later."

Jonathan, who had just finished swallowing the stuff down, nodded appreciatively. He could already feel his injuries morph into a comfortable numbness while his pillow was being rearranged into a better sleeping position. He knew it was the Captain, and he tried to say thank you, but his eye lids demanded sleep, and the brunet was in no mood to argue.

--

Captain Percival tried to ignore the painful nostalgia that crept through his system after having pretty much tucked the kid into bed. He didn't need to do that. Sure, he didn't need to do _any_ of what he'd been doing, but he'd been border line baby sitting the kid; something he could have easily left Ben alone to do, or maybe even one of the not so incompetent crew members. But the moment his hands had pulled the young boy out of the wreckage that had been _The Fractured Enid,_ he knew he was in for the long haul.

But Percival was good at fighting what he knew in his gut with a strong sense of denial. His reason for being drawn to the small boy in need, his eagerness to heal him, to care for him…

"Why so glum, chum?"

"Aren't you supposed to be at the wheel?" Percival demanded, though he couldn't help but feel secretly grateful for being pulled out of his silent contemplation.

"Nah," Ben answered casually. "Christopher's got it."

"He's incompetent."

"Please! He's one of the best crew members you have on here! Well, besides me of course."

"Of course," the Captain answered with only a little bit of sarcasm.

"So anyway, what's with the look? Kid started crying or something?"

"No, the kid's fine. His injuries are hurting, but they're coming along nicely. And since the malnutrition issue is being taken care of now too, I'm thinking he'll actually end up better than he was before everything took place. I just gave him some more medicine though, so don't barge in there all overly excited, because he's sleeping."

"That's great! So…what's with the look then…?"

"This is my face, Ben! I'm not wearing any 'look.'"

"Captain…"

Percival did a quick look around, making sure they were in an excluded enough of an area so that other crew members wouldn't be able to hear in. After feeling content enough with their distance away from the rest, the curly haired man delved into a mini, half whispered rant. "That boy is so damn young, Ben, and it's not even his injuries that get to me, because I know those will heal. It's picturing that kid under the service of Beelzebub for an entire _month_ that makes my skin crawl. It's picturing him getting pulled away from his family; pulled away from an actual chance at a semi-decent life, and being thrown out here with the rest of us. He's too damn young, Ben. And I know…I know very, vee-_hairy _well that life isn't fair, so it's not that I'm surprised, but it's just…damn it, Ben! He's just so _young!"_

Ben nodded. The Captain wasn't able to say all that was really bothering him, the memories this boy was stirring, but he'd heard enough to know what he was getting at and more some. "I know," was the only way he could respond, but he knew it was just what the Captain needed, _wanted_, to hear.

A silence encased them both then, until the usual spark beneath Ben's blue eyes returned with an optimistic shimmer. "You know what we should do?"

"Oh, dear God…what now?"

"We should make port for when the kid gets better, you know? Show 'im a bunch of things he's never seen before. I bet he'd have a blast."

Percival shrugged casually, though the idea did strike him as a good one. "We could use some more supplies…"

"And some wenches!"

"Ben…"

"And supplies, of course…"

As the two continued on in their talking, they did not notice Christopher handing the wheel over to the tallest of the crewman, nor did they notice him sneaking quietly into the Captain's cabin.

--

Jonathan knew the minute he woke up that he did not awake from the medicine wearing off. A noise had stirred him out of his slumber, but what was it? A clinging of some kind; metal against metal.

Quietly, cautiously, JD opened his eyes.

He stared into the back of a person he did not know. He was roaming, for one reason or another, through the surgical tools that he knew must've belonged to Percival. He also knew that no one other than the Captain or Ben was allowed in here, including this new stranger. Jonathan swallowed a nervous lump down his throat as he continued to watch the person groping curiously through the tools.

He was older than him, an adult, but still pretty young. He was bald too, but JD assumed it was due to a shave rather than hair loss. His skin was dark as well, but not as dark as the brunet had seen before. And, when the man in question turned his head only to accidentally make eye contact with him, they both couldn't help but let out a startled yelp.

"Woah!" the stranger gasped, jumping to his feet in an instant. "I, um…I'm sorry. I thought you were sleeping, or at least that's what I heard the Captain say, so I just came in here to check out the surgical stuff, 'cause I know he'd never let me look at it otherwise, but I didn't mean to wake you up, and I swear I wasn't going to steal it or anything. I just really wanted to look because..."

Somewhere in the middle of his rambling, JD realized he had nothing to be afraid of. This guy, obviously a crewman, wasn't in here to rip off the Captain or to steal any of his things. He was just curious about the tools, for one reason or another, and the nerves that laced his voice wasn't the fear of a thief being caught, but something along the lines of a kid getting caught doing something they shouldn't have been doing. And there was just something about him that reminded him of, well, himself. "It's okay," JD finally answered. "I slept a lot last night, and the medicine's still working on my wounds, so I don't feel the sting that much. Um…what's your name?"

The man in question eased up considerably when realizing he hadn't upset him, though he still looked a little guilty for waking him up. "Christopher. You?"

"Jonathan. What's your last name?"

"Turk."

"'Turk?'"

"Yeah, it's weird. What about you?"

"Dorian."

"That's kind of weird too, you know."

"Yeah, I know."

And, for one reason or another, the two of them started laughing. It was odd, JD realized, to feel so completely at ease with someone he'd just gone about meeting. This wasn't the Captain, who had saved his life, or the first mate, who had made him feel like it was okay to laugh. But there was a definite friendliness to the crewman in front of him; an instantaneous bond that the brunet felt was rather, well, brotherly; something he'd never even managed to feel with his _real_ brother.

"So it's pretty cool to see you up, John. You didn't look so good when the Captain first brought you on board."

"So I've heard…"

"Yeah, well, for as big of a jack ass as the Captain can be, I don't think it's in him to just walk pass a life in need of saving, you know? I knew you'd be okay if he was treating you."

Jonathan couldn't help the look of confusion that he knew was spreading across his features. He wasn't surprised to hear that the Captain wouldn't bypass a person in need, but what was with the "jack ass," comment? Were they talking about the same person who had not only rescued him, but spent the last day and more some staying by his bed and tending to his wounds? "Captain Percival?" he finally asked. "But he's so –"

The cabin door chose that moment to open, in which Christopher practically jumped to the side of the bed and ducked out of view. He made a motion of frantically waving his arms in a "no" like gesture before ducking completely out of sight.

The Captain stood against the frame of the door, looking at him with a mixture of concern and confusion. "You alright, Jonathan? I'm surprised you're not still sleeping."

"Oh, um…I woke up."

Percival rolled his eyes, though there was an obvious air of play behind them. "Clearly. I thought I heard you talking though…"

"Oh, um, yeah…that was me. I kinda…I was kinda day dreaming, and sometimes when I drift off, I…I snap out of whatever I'd been thinking about and say something, um…weird."

John could feel the not-really-buying-it stare from the Captain, and he absolutely hated himself for lying. Though, truthfully, what he had told him hadn't been a lie. He really _did_ tend to say odd things when he allowed himself to day dream, but that definitely wasn't the reason for his talking this time around.

"Uh-huh. Well, do you want more medicine, or do you think you'll be able to fall back to sleep on your own?"

"On my own, Captain, thank you."

"Not a problem. Oh, and if you could tell Christopher to come out here when he's done hiding beside the bed, I'd appreciate it."

JD, who had been just about ready to pale, was surprised when the Captain gave him a small, almost miss-able wink. And then he was out of the door.

Christopher arose from his crouched position on the floor, a look of defeat splayed on his features as a low moan escaped him. "I am _so_ dead."

"I don't think so. He didn't seem mad to me."

"Well yeah, 'cause it's not _you_ he's mad at."

The bald man dragged his feet to the cabins exit, but not before turning back to the boy on the bed. "It was nice meeting you, Jonathan. It'd be nicer if we could actually get to know each other, but I might not be alive after this."

"Oh, come on. I mean…you're exaggerating, right?"

"Maybe, but still…"

JD gave a small laugh, to which Christopher followed suit. "Wish me luck, okay?"

The brunet nodded. "Will do, even if I don't think you need it."

Christopher just shook his head. "Wait till you get to know him. Then you'll be wishing luck for both me _and_ you." And before JD could ask how that could possibly be true, his new friend was out the door.

--

The next couple of weeks were much like Jonathan's first day there. Captain Percival would come to see him in the morning, Ben would follow in with breakfast shortly after, and then the Captain would check on his injuries, each new day showing more and more improvement to his wounds. It wasn't long at all until Jonathan was able to sit up without the older man's assistance.

Often during the day, when Jonathan _wasn't_ sleeping, the Captain, and sometimes Ben as well, would come back to the cabin, just to keep him company. These moments were JD's favorites. The first mate would say something that Percival would fake getting frustrated over, but sometimes, much to the delight of both Jonathan and Benjamin, the Captain wouldn't be able to help himself and let out a small laugh.

It was at the end of his second week in bed when Percival came in to see him once again. "'Morning, Jonathan. How're you doing?"

JD sat up almost instantly. His movement, while still a little wobbly, was exceedingly better than it had been. "Good! How're you?"

"I'm fine. Now I have to ask; have you been trying to regain strength in your legs like I asked you to?"

Jonathan nodded. "Yes, sir. I walk around the bed, but I still have to stop or hold onto the sides sometimes. It's better though, and my legs aren't as wobbly from not moving them anymore."

"And your other injuries?"

"They still hurt a bit, but walking doesn't affect them like they did at first. It's just that normal, bad injury kind of hurt."

The Captain nodded. "Alright then, good. I was thinking we'd try getting you out of the cabin for a while today. You need some fresh air, and God knows you could use some sunlight. I'll help you on your feet if you think you'll need it, but whaddya' say to leaving the bed for a while and getting you out into the open?"

Jonathan swallowed. Over the past few days, he had definitely begun wondering about the outside of the ship; wanting also to meet the rest of the crew. Not to mention the idea of fresh air and sunlight sounded fantastic, but he still couldn't help but feel a little nervous. What if his legs decided to go all wobbly again and he fell? What if the other crewmen hated him? Or what if another storm came while he was out there, and he'd be lost to the sea forever this time? JD swallowed, not having realized until that point that he was now, apparently, afraid of storms.

Percival could see the hesitation and worry crossing over the young lads features. He didn't want to pressure the kid, but he knew he needed to get out of there and into a more open area. It was part of the healing process, and the boy's skin was already pale enough as it was. He'd recommend sunlight even if the kid _hadn't_ been injured. "You'll be okay, JD."

Jonathan looked up, startled. The Captain had never called him by his new nickname before. "I…you sure?"

"I'm sure. If you get tired out you can sit on the deck or even come back to the cabin. I'll stay with you for a while before I go back to the wheel again, alright?"

JD nodded appreciatively, sucking in a lung full of air in the process. He wanted to see what was out there. He shouldn't have been afraid. But more than that, he didn't want to disappoint the Captain, and the fact that he was offering to stay with him was just… "Okay. T-That's a good idea. Thank you, Captain."

Percival gave a small nod before going over to the side of the bed, where he'd be able to steady the kid if he fell.

JD stood up, and, for the first time ever, found himself standing right beside the man who had saved his life. Maybe it was a little frustrating that Captain Robert had mistaken him for being younger than he was, even if it _was_ a common mistake made by most, but seeing how short he was in comparison to Captain Percival, well…he couldn't blame him for having thought he was nine or so.

Jonathan instantly flushed, taking to staring down at the cabin's floor boards. Percival took this for nerves, and found himself placing a surprisingly gentle hand on the wobbly kneed brunet. "You ready?"

JD sucked in another long full of air, nodding more to himself than to the Captain. "Aye, Captain."

Percival tried not to grin at the kid's new use of "Aye," and walked with him over to the door.

JD braced himself for whatever was to come, and when the door finally did swing open, the first thing he noticed was the gust of fresh air that caressed his skin in a welcoming sort of fashion. Right after that he took in the lovely feel of sunlight, and the smell of the open sea; a scent that he had always loved. But before he could take the full step out of where he had just spent the last two weeks residing, he noticed the one thing he had hoped to never see again.

There it was; waving cruelly at him from the main mast: The Jolly Rodger. Jonathan gapped at it, his eyes going wide. Very suddenly, he realized he had never even bothered to ask what kind of ship he was on. He'd just assumed it was the navy, what with being saved and all. He'd just assumed. But now, here he was again; under the control of a large crew of pirates. Before Jonathan could manage to scream, images around him were spinning out of control. Colors distorted, his senses grew numb, and he was just barely conscious enough to realize that someone was keeping him up right, whispering what sounded to be hushed words of comfort. But before he could ask what was going on, before he could look at whoever was carrying him back inside of the cabin, the world around him went black.

_**A/N:**_ _Cliffhanger, I know. And trust me, I feel bad about it, but it seemed like a good place to leave off. (Plus, if I had kept it going, it would've gone over ten pages, which is where I usually like to stop for this one story. Chapter length wise, I mean) Anyway, I really hope you enjoyed it, and until next time! :)_


	4. Chapter IV

_**A/N: **__It seems that, so far, I've been able to update each Friday as promised. I'll be honest though: It's very tempting for me to update sooner. I'm currently in the middle of writing Chapter 8 of this story – doing my best to stay ahead of the game – but if I were to update twice or even three times a week like I might normally, then I'd be up to where I am now before you know it, which might lead to you guys having to wait longer than a week, which I wouldn't want to do to you all. Anyway, thought I'd throw that out there just to assure you guys that I'm not slacking. These chapters are just a bit longer than my usual ones, so I'm trying to stay ahead of the game. Anyway, thank you all again for the kind and encouraging reviews. They mean more to me than I can really express, and I love seeing you guys get so into the story. Well, that's about it from me. Enjoy the next chapter!_

_**Disclaimer:**_ _I own a very large nothing._

**Chapter IV:**

"_I don't know why I say the things that I say, but I say them anyway."_

_-Ain't No Reason, by Brett Dennen-_

When Jonathan next woke up, he felt a strong sense of relief. He was back in the cabin, back in the bed, and oh! Look at that – the Captain was sitting beside him as well. The horrible event that just took place never actually happened. It had all just been a bad, stress induced dream.

Percival, having realized the young boy's eyes were open, scrubbed his face with one hand, clearly relieved. "Shit, kid, you okay?"

"Y-Yeah. Yeah. Is there…is there a reason I shouldn't be?"

"I don't know, you tell me. You were doing really well there, but when the door opened and you caught site of the ship, you started mumbling 'no' and your knees buckled. What happened?"

It took a moment for the Captain's words to really sink in, but when they did, JD instantly tensed. Percival noticed the change in his mood at once, and when he extended an arm to rearrange the cool cloth he had placed on the boy's forehead while he'd been unconscious, he also couldn't help but notice the kid's very visible twitch.

"Jonathan…?"

"You're a pirate…"

Percival felt his eyebrows come together in confusion, not having picked up on the boy's words. He was talking in a restrained, almost choked like whisper. "What…?"

"You're…you're a _pirate._"

The Captain's eyes popped, realization hitting him all at once. Had Jonathan not known? Then again…how could he have? He'd just assumed the kid knew what kind of ship he was on. It looked like the kid, in fact, _had_ assumed. He just ended up assuming wrong.

JD watched the series of emotions pass over the man's face before him. Confusion, understanding, and then…was that disappointment?

"Yeah, kid, I am."

The brunet swallowed; hard. He couldn't tell if that look was disappointment or not, but he was surprised to realize how utterly horrible it made him feel. Upon meeting Percival, he knew almost instantly that he would never want to disappoint him. Even now, finding out that he was a pirate hadn't made that desire falter; that need for his approval. It was still there, and it was still very, very strong.

And quite suddenly, JD felt his skin crawl, disgusted with his behavior from only moments ago. Who _cared_ if they were pirates? Who cared? They were, already, some of the nicest people he had ever met. Scratch that. They _were_ the nicest people he had ever met. This man before him, who had voluntarily saved his life and tended to his wounds. The first mate, who had visited him multiple times during his bed rest to make him laugh and feel at ease. Even Christopher, who he had only met once, seemed like he could very well become one of the closest people in Jonathan's life.

Percival, who had turned away to let the boy put his thoughts together, turned back at the sound of an intake of breath; sharp but undoubtedly wavering. He could feel his face soften at the sight that was Jonathan's flushed and embarrassed expression; the corners of the boy's blue eyes filling with tears that he was obviously trying to keep from shedding. "It's okay, Jonathan. You didn't know."

The brunet's doe eyes looked up at him, wide and watery. "I'm sorry," he whispered quietly, voice shaking. "I acted like such a –"

"Like a person who had just spent a month captured on a ship with ruthless cut throats? Kid, it's okay. Really. You assumed the way I assumed. And hell, _of course_ you didn't think we were pirates. Not when the only ones you've had any experience dealing with were, and you can quote me on this, bastard coated bastards with bastard filling. You didn't know. I should've told you. But now you _do_ know, and all I can tell ya' is that we're not like them. We're not. But I can understand why it shook you, kid, I can. So don't apologize. There's no need for it."

JD sniffed, turning his gaze downward in embarrassment. At least he had managed to not completely cry in front of him… Still, now the tears were brewing from the sincerity behind the older man's words. For the first time in a while, the brunet felt as though things really _were_ going to be okay.

Calming himself, Jonathan took in another lung full of air. "Thank you, Captain."

Percival nodded. "Alright. Now…do you want to try that again?"

"Are you sure I can…? I mean…did any of them see me react like that? Did I upset them?"

"No one saw. You weren't even out of the cabin when you noticed whatever it was you noticed that made you realize where you were. I'm guessing the Jolly Rodger was what caught your eye?"

JD nodded.

"Mmm…thought so. But no, kid, no one was looking our way. Except for maybe Ben, but he won't pry, nor would he take offense, trust me. So are you up for another round?"

Jonathan stood from the bed, holding onto the side a bit longer before letting go completely. He was determined now; ready to take on whatever was out there waiting for him. "Aye, Captain."

Percival couldn't help but grin at the kid's use of the word, "Aye," as he led him over to the cabin's exit.

Once again, JD's senses found themselves filled to the brim of all the things he loved; sunlight, fresh air, the smell of open sea… Well, he'd never been able to go out onto the sea before all of this, but whenever they'd been able, he and his brother Dan would run down to the docks and play. Actually, Dan did most of the playing. Skipping rocks, jumping into the water, splashing his little brother… But when the older of the two would wear himself out and sleep beneath the sun, Jonathan would often sit at the edge, dangling his feet and gazing out longingly to where he always wished to go.

The brunet shook himself away from his memories, not feeling completely comfortable with allowing his mind to drift the way he used to let it.

"Alright, kid," he heard the Captain say suddenly, "I have to steer the ship for a while. You think you'll be alright to explore by yourself there?"

Jonathan's stomach gave a nervous twist, but when he caught sight of a familiar face scrubbing the floors of the upper deck, the boy said he would.

With a final nod, Percival headed over to the wheel. John watched him go before turning towards the direction of the crewman, hoping the lump of anxiety in his throat would melt away soon.

He wasn't even at the upper deck yet before Christopher noticed him approaching. He waved him forward eagerly, looking pleased to see him up and walking about. The brunet smiled, the lump in his throat dissolving much faster than he had anticipated. "Hi, again!"

"Hey, buddy! It's good to see you out here with the rest of us. I didn't want to say anything when I first met you, but _man_ could you use some sunlight!"

JD laughed, surprised that the comment didn't embarrass him. "I think I'm liking the air out here more than anything so far."

"So the cabin wasn't comfortable?"

"Huh? No, not at all! I mean, yes, it was! I mean…I didn't mean to say it _wasn't_ comfortable. It was, and the Captain was great to have let me use it for so long, but it's just, you know, good to get some air."

"You don't hear 'Captain,' and 'Great,' in the same sentence a lot on this ship, unless you're referring to his skills or whatever. But even then, I wouldn't. I mean, I'll admit any day that he's good, but not in front of 'im. Guy's an ego-maniac."

JD instantly frowned, suddenly remembering all of the details from their first conversation in the cabin. He liked Christopher, but what was his problem with Captain Percival? He didn't take the crewman for a liar though, but the Captain an ego-maniac? He couldn't picture it. "Oh... So, um…did you get in a lot of trouble for being in there the other day? The cabin, I mean."

"Wasn't as bad as I thought it would be, actually. He was more upset that I woke you up than the whole going through his surgical tools thing, though he did tell me that he'd use the shine on my head to communicate with passing ships if I touched them again…"

While JD stood there trying to decide whether or not what he just heard had been funny, two arms were suddenly around his middle, lifting him up and swinging him over their owner's shoulder. Whoever was currently holding him was now spinning in circles, causing the ship to become a gigantic blur. "What the - !?"

"New best friend! You're finally out of your cave!"

"Ben!?"

"Correct!"

"Ben! Put me down!"

"Incorrect!"

"_Ben!"_

With a laugh that seemed to fill the air around them, the first mate set the young boy down, reaching out to steady him as he began to swerve in place. "Too soon for rough housing then?"

"Ungh…" JD managed in response.

"Sorry about that, JD."

"'JD?'"

The two looked over to Christopher, who was looking on at the scene before him, clearly amused. "You didn't tell me Ben gave you a nickname already."

JD blinked a few times before answering, just to make sure his vision had stopped swimming. "Yeah, he gave it to me when I was still sick." Jonathan turned back to Ben then and smiled. "Do you usually give out the nicknames?"

"Yup! Me and the Captain."

A small, "Tsk," brought both of their attention back to Christopher. "Ben gives out the _friendly_ nicknames; the kind that people actually like getting. The Captain gives out the kind that makes you not so on board with the whole nickname thing."

"Oh, c'mon, Turk," Ben responded then, "You know he doesn't mean any harm by it."

The bald headed crewman just shrugged, though his eyes showed that he did, in fact, know the truth in Benjamin's words.

"Anyway, I came to borrow our new friend here. You up for a tour, JD?"

"Yeah, definitely!"

Jonathan waved a friendly goodbye to Christopher as he walked along side Ben, who was pointing out the various parts of the ship; telling him in detail what each part was for and the jobs that were required to maintain them.

Some of what he was being told he already knew from working on _the Fractured Enid,_ but a lot of it – most of it – was brand new. The one thing he'd been repeatedly told on the used-to-be-ship was to clean where he was instructed to clean, and that was pretty much it. He had never really been shown around on a full ship such as _the Sacred Heart_ before, nor was he ever given the chance to ask questions on what such-and-such was for or what such-and-such could do.

He paid close attention to Ben's words, who managed to teach without being boring, and did his best to memorize everything that was being told to him, even if the first mate never once said he had to. Still, if this was going to be his new home for a while, he should know the workings of what surrounded him as well as the various nicks and crannies.

Home… A sudden swell in his chest had him looking down where he currently stood, waiting patiently for Ben to come back from talking to a nervous looking crewman. He had never had what one would describe as the best family in the world, but they still loved each other; despite his older sibling's tendencies to belittle him, or his mother's love for booze after the passing of his father.

Another swell of emotion took hold of Jonathan, the back of his eyes stinging slightly.

He was seven when his father passed, and his mother had never gotten over it. His older brother Dan had tried desperately to pick up the role as "Man of the house," but he was just a kid too, not to mention he didn't have much of a model to base his new role off of. They had both _heard_ about how great their father was, but they had very scarcely seen him for themselves. He was always off on fishing trips; doing his best to provide for the family. Jonathan had never blamed his father for his absence, but that didn't mean he never craved his presence either; some kind of father figure to teach him, to guide him, to tell him it was all going to be okay…

JD turned his head to where Captain Percival stood at the helm. During his time in the cabin, the older man had never worn his tricorn hat or jacket. He would remove it upon entering, or sometimes they'd be off before he even knocked. He'd only seen the man in casual and rugged clothing, though he'd known from the start, simply by the air around him, that he held a certain sense of experience; an undeniable amount of wisdom.

But for the first time ever, Jonathan was getting the chance to see him in captain mode. It was inspiring to watch; motivating even, and the feeling of never wanting to disappoint him only grew as he continued to stare.

"Sorry about that, JD."

Jonathan jumped at the familiar voice of Benjamin. Wow, he was drifting off like he used to, before being captured. Okay, he wasn't having the kind of fantasies he used to have (which he couldn't help but miss a little) but he was finding himself comfortable enough to let his mind wander; something he scarcely allowed himself to do while on board _the Fractured Enid._

"JD? Woo-hoo!"

Jonathan jumped. He did it again! "Oh! Um…sorry, Ben…"

"You're fine, buddy! Anyway, I was going to give you more of a tour, show you our storage supply and stuff like that, but our newest crewman's a little nervous about cleaning the canons for the first time, so I'm gonna go help him out. You okay by yourself for a while?"

JD nodded promptly, much more at ease at being left alone than last time. Besides, the crewman who he assumed Ben was talking about looked as though he could definitely use more support than him, at least at the moment.

"B-Benjamin, s-sir?" he asked with a small squeak, coming up behind them. "D-Do you want me to go a-ahead and get – get started? Or should I just…"

"It's alright, Doug, really. I'll help ya' out. Oh! Here we go – introduction time. Jonathan, this is Douglas Murphy. Douglas, this is Jonathan Dorian."

JD did his best to give a comforting smile, surprised that the roles weren't reversed. Doug smiled back though, and was even able to manage a small, if not shaky, wave. "H-Hi, Jonathan. Glad you're, um…glad you're better."

"Thanks, Doug. Me too."

Benjamin gave John an encouraging grin before walking away with the nervous crewman, leaving JD to venture about where he pleased. He didn't get far, however, before Christopher came bounding up to him, brushing his hands on his faded pants. "Did you like the tour?"

"Yeah! It was really great."

"Tell me about it. The minute I knew I was heading towards piracy, I made it my goal to find this ship. It's legend! Okay, well…the _Captain_ is legend."

This bit of news wasn't particularly surprising, Percival being a legend and all, but he did want to know _why_, exactly, that was.

"Want to know why he's legend?" Christopher asked suddenly, as if reading the brunet's thoughts. JD nodded.

"Captain Percival has never _once_ killed before. Can you believe it? To be a pirate and _not_ kill is unheard of, but he somehow does it. Not only that, but he _still_ gets the goal he sets out for. That's why everyone wants to be on this ship; to sail under his flag. If you're going to be forced into piracy, then this is definitely the place to come. Hell, it's the place to come if you _choose_ it!"

Something in Jonathan seemed to glow at his new friend's words. He'd heard enough already to know that Percival was no ordinary cut throat, but to hear he had _never_ killed was astounding! "I thought you didn't like the Captain though," he commented then, curious as to Christopher's way of thinking.

"I don't like him because of his attitude, but I don't _dis_like him either. Like I said before: I'll admit any day that the guy's good at what he does. I just won't say it in front of 'im. He'd never let me forget it."

"Oh, I see…" He didn't, but he was still glad to hear that his new friend didn't think too disdainfully of the man whose approval he felt the ever increasing need to obtain.

"Anyway, man, I just came by to see how you were holding up. I gotta go finish scrubbing the upper deck. Oh! Before I go! See that guy over there? Picking at the floor by the main mast?"

JD turned to where Christopher was pointing. The crewman was, incredibly enough, the tallest of them he had seen so far. He was currently staring in what appeared to be deep concentration at a particular spot on the floor, prying at something over and over again. "Yeah, I see him," he finally answered.

"He's one of the newest crewmen, and I really don't know what to think of him yet. Kinda weird, but he doesn't strike me as bad, you know? Anyway, he was the one that helped the Captain carry you into the long boat. I thought you'd want to know, though if you wanted to stay clear of him, you know…just in case…then I wouldn't blame you."

JD's eyes popped. He helped save him? How could he bring himself to stay clear of someone who helped save him? "I have to say thank you!" he half shouted.

Turk shrugged. "Whatever you want to do, buddy. Just thought I'd give you the heads up."

JD nodded appreciatively as Christopher went back to his task. With little hesitation, Jonathan trotted over to where the tall man stood, eager to make a new friend. "Um…hi, there!"

The crewman continued to pick at the spot he was currently focused on, but he managed to turn his gaze, if only for a second, to let out a small grunt of acknowledgement.

Jonathan bobbed his head as if listening to music, clearly at a loss for words. He didn't know what he'd been expecting, but definitely not this, well, awkwardness. Before he could open his mouth to try yet again, the taller of the two turned to him as if frustrated. "Can I help you with something?"

JD swallowed, suddenly very nervous. "Huh? I, uh…no. No. I just came over here to say hi, that's all. And, um…to say thanks for helping the Captain, um…save me."

Another grunt of acknowledgement, followed by a small moment of silence, followed by a seemingly random comment. "Something's jammed between the boards here. I'm trying to pry it out."

Jonathan, just happy to have a conversation going, said the first thing that came to mind. "Maybe there's a shilling stuck in there."

Slowly, curiously, and just a bit too deviously for the young brunet's liking, the taller man turned to him. "Why a shilling…?"

"I-I don't know. I was just making small talk –"

He was cut off, however, when the end of the crewman's tool was pressed beneath the bottom of his chin, forcing him too look upwards and into his eyes. "If I find a shilling in there, I'm taking you down."

Jonathan swallowed hard, scurrying away as fast as his sea legs could carry him. Maybe now would be a good time to go visit the Captain.

--

Percival steered the ship robotically, thankful that today's weather brought a clear sky and a calm sea. His eyes were set on the ocean before him, but his mind was set on the boy he knew was currently receiving a tour from Benjamin. He had wanted to give the tour himself, but that would have required open displays of affection. How would the crew react upon finding their usually stern and angry Captain calmly and explanatory pointing things out to a kid? How would they react if the boy stumbled and he reached out to catch him, when at any other time, to any other crewman, he'd just walk right by and make a witty remark? Would they treat Jonathan differently for receiving special treatment? Would they think their Captain soft?

Percival's eyes narrowed. His well known reputation for being the Captain that never killed was a good one, but as he explained to his first mate weeks ago, it definitely had its down side. If the crewmen ever thought he'd gone soft, they'd be disrespecting him left and right; taking advantage of his every move and slacking on a multitude of their responsibilities.

He couldn't have that. He wouldn't.

"Hi, Captain Percival! Um…do you mind if I watch you steer for a while?"

The older man gripped the wheel; tightly. His first instinct had been to turn around to see how he was; to quite possibly even smile. But the whole crew was out today – cleaning and sailing and keeping watch for whatever lay ahead – they were all out there, all ready to witness how it was the Captain would treat this new presence.

"Captain…? If you're busy, I could just –"

Percival turned around then, sharply, before he could manage to stop himself; before he could listen to the inner voice that was _pleading_ with him not to do what he was about to do. "Listen, Newbie - when you see I'm up here steering, it'd be best not to approach me. You see this water all around us? That's called the ocean, and if not navigated through properly, we could die; _all_ of us. Now _my_ job is to keep us all alive and kicking, and _your_ job is to let me do _my_ job. Are we clear?"

The silence that followed seemed to last forever, Percival trying _much_ harder than he usually had to at keeping his expression of irritation in check. But the boy's look was making his throat constrict, those blue eyes that had trusted him so much now looking up at him as if he'd just been stricken.

"Yes, Captain…"

Percival watched, his heart hammering beneath his chest, as the boy backed away, turning quickly to hide what looked to be on-coming tears. He saw Christopher approach him by the main mast, and could've sworn his mouth formed the words, "Tried to warn you." He saw Benjamin, who he hadn't even realized had been in hearing range, staring at him in a way he very scarcely saw. His usually bright eyes were vacant of their spark, his eyebrows furrowed in not of anger, but disappointment.

Percival would have preferred anger.

Gritting his teeth and with holding a scream of frustration, the Captain turned back to the sea before him, gripping the wheel as tightly as one could. He'd saved the kids life just to end up crushing his spirit.

Damn it.

--

Jonathan tried to take in the sympathizing words of his friend, but he made an excuse as quickly as he could think of one and slunk back into the cabin. He sat on the floor at once, knees curled up to his chest as his back pressed firmly against the door. It shouldn't have stung as much as it did; the Captain's words. He'd received much bigger tongue lashings in his life, but all from people he expected to receive such treatment from. He knew he should have taken heed to what Christopher had been telling him; he knew he shouldn't have trusted the Captain so easily, but what reason had he not to?

What was worse was the need for the Captain's approval, the desire to never disappoint, was still very much there and very much alive. It hadn't evaporated upon Percival's hurtful words, nor had his admiration towards the older man.

But that just made this new turn of events all the more painful to bear.

Jonathan choked back a sob as he buried his head between his knees. Over and over he retraced the day's events, wondering what it was he could have done to upset him, but each and every time, he just came up with nothing.

The brunet bit back another sob, bigger than the last, and let a few of his unshed tears release themselves. He should've never gone up to the Captain while he was steering. He should've known better. Maybe then, the older man would still like him.

_**A/N:**_ _Not the happiest of endings, I know, but I don't think this would be considered a cliffhanger either, so at least it's not as bad as the last one. (I hope…?) Anyway, that's about it for now. Hope you all enjoyed it, and until next time!_


	5. Chapter V

_**A/N: **__Before we begin here, I just want to say another thank you to everyone whose been reading this story. Your reviews and messages are extremely encouraging, and I appreciate them full heartedly. Oh, and just a quick note about the singer of the song I used for this chapter: Kate Micucci is the actress who plays Gooch on this season of Scrubs. She has her own album out, which I fell in love with right away (though the song I picked for this chapter wasn't one on her album, but still) Anyway, if you get the chance to check her out, I would highly recommend it. :) Well, that's about it from me. Hope you enjoy the chapter!_

_**Disclaimer:**_ _I own a very large nothing._

**Chapter V:**

"_The stars in the night will teach you that right from wrong isn't always the way."_

_-Only Begun, by Kate Micucci-_

Only Benjamin and Christopher had taken note of Percival's mini rant towards the new kid, but the other crewmen didn't give it much thought. It was normalcy, and why give normalcy a second glance? And while Christopher paid attention to the situation mainly in that he knew Jonathan looked up to the older man, he didn't realize how much the ranting really hurt. Because, unlike Ben, he hadn't witnessed the two weeks of undeniable care the curly haired Captain had showed for the young brunet.

Percival was still at the wheel when Benjamin approached him. It'd been a good hour since the incident, and the red headed man knew that his first mate was trying to give him some time to really think through what had happened. But Ben was also very good at regaining his optimism, and the Captain had never known him to hold a grudge. It was a relief to see the familiar spark in his eyes again, but for the first time in his life, he almost wished the guy would yell at him. Still, he knew Ben well enough that he would, in his own Benji like way, bring the situation up.

"So are we still making port to show the kid a good time?"

And there ya' go.

"You don't like the way I treated him, I get it."

Ben, who was now leaning against the side of the ship, casually threw his head back to look up at the sky. "You know I don't, Captain, c'mon! But I get it. And I'm not mad. I'm just…I wish you'd allow someone else into your life besides me. And what's so wrong about asking what the plan is? That's what we first mates do."

"Listen, Ben, I didn't mean it, okay? I didn't. But I can't have the crewmen thinking I'm someone they can walk all over."

"And?"

"And if I treated the kid differently then the rest of them, there'd be a chance that _he_ could've ended up getting the cold shoulder from _them._"

"And…?"

"And what? That's it!"

"C'mon, Perry…you know it's not."

Percival's grimace was not over his nickname, but over where Ben was steering the conversation towards. It was a topic most definitely put under the, "We don't talk about that unless I bring it up," category, and Ben was forgoing that rule to get him to open up. Wasn't gonna happen. Not unless he said otherwise. "No," he answered firmly. Whether it was an answer to his first mate's query or a stop on where the conversation was headed, he didn't really know, but Ben nodded his sincere understanding, pushing himself away from the railing and conjuring up his smile once again.

"Anyway, I'm gonna go try and find JD. See how he's doing. Are we making port still?"

The Captain nodded stiffly, silently grateful that Ben was going to do what he couldn't do himself, though also, to his horror, ashamed that he could not.

"Alright then, I'm off! Here, oh new best friend, here!"

Percival tried not to grin at his first mates obvious attempt at making him feel better. It wasn't that hard, what with the guilt of snapping at Jonathan still weighing heavily on his conscious.

--

Someone was pushing against his back.

JD stirred, shocked to find himself still in the Captain's cabin, his body slumped against the door. He hadn't even realized he'd fallen asleep there. It was no surprise though. After two weeks in bed, his body, which was still in the recovering process, had to get used to all of the activity again.

"Jonathan?"

Oh right, the back pusher. Someone was trying to get into the cabin; softly nudging the door open. The brunet stood up quickly, feeling guilty for having blocked whoever's path. He opened the door hesitantly, but relaxed some when he saw the familiar smile of Benjamin looking down on him. "Hey, kid! You fell asleep by the door or something?"

JD, embarrassed, began rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, um…sorry. Guess my body's not used to so much moving around yet, and I kind of…kind of felt worn out. Um, sorry, sir…"

"'Sir?' C'mon, kid, didn't we go over this?"

"I-I guess so…but you're the first mate, so I figured that if the Captain, um…changed, then maybe you did too. I don't know. I was just…"

Ben looked down at the young boy before him, the corners of his mouth turning downwards in a rare frown. "I haven't changed," he responded calmly, "and neither has the Captain."

Jonathan looked up then, witnessing the oddity that was Ben's frown. "I'm glad you haven't, but…I mean…is the Captain just having a bad day? Did I do something wrong? If he hasn't changed, then why did he get so mad at me before…?"

"Listen, JD…it's not my place to tell you everything that's going through the Captain's head, but I can at least let you know that he's not mad at you, alright? Give him some time."

Jonathan was still confused with all that had taken place only a little over an hour ago, but he didn't think Ben would lie to him over the matter, so he nodded, doing his best to regain himself.

"Hey, want to see something?"

The brunet looked up at the return of Ben's cheery composure. The older man nudged him playfully. "You might like it!" he sing-songed.

JD grinned. "Okay, sure. What is it?"

Ben trotted over to the Captain's desk, pulling out the drawer closest to the ground. Jonathan watched on curiously, wondering what it was that the first mate felt the urge to show him.

From within the confines of the wooden compartment, Ben pulled out an average looking box, wrapped in a worn looking cloth. He removed the material and took off the lid of the container with a great amount of care. "Okay, you ready?" he finally asked.

JD nodded, stepping closer to the bed where Benjamin had placed the package. "What is it?"

One by one, the first mate took out various paintings from the wooden box, laying them flat out on the bed for Jonathan to gaze upon. JD did so with wide eyes and a gapping mouth. They were astounding! Not just because of how well they were painted, but because of what the paintings were of. They were not of sunsets or landscapes or wide ocean views, but of people. And not portraits either. They were of people bending over to pick up a shilling, or someone caught looking at the sky, or maybe just someone sitting on the grass and staring off into space. "These are really good!" Jonathan finally commented. "Where did you get all of these?"

"I painted 'em!"

JD looked up from staring at the art work and straight into Benjamin's joyous expression. "These were painted by _you!?_"

"Yup! I thought you'd like them."

"When did you _make_ all of these?"

"It was my profession before piracy. I'm not going to lie, I didn't do too well as an artist."

"What're you talking about? These are amazing!"

"But they're not the kind of paintings people are looking for. A lot of customers wanted me to paint them decked out and looking like royalty, or maybe a sunset or something. Not that any of those paintings are necessarily bad, but I find them kind of…fake. To me, paintings capture moments in time, so I like painting the daily stuff. When the person isn't looking or just going about their way; that's the stuff I like." Ben shrugged casually while Jonathan listened on, ears alert. He'd never thought of art the way Ben clearly did, but he liked the first mate's way of thinking. It seemed…fresh; real. No wonder the Captain liked him so much… That thought led to a question he had only pondered slightly during his first few days of bed rest on _the Sacred Heart._

"So you painted before turning pirate?"

"Yup!"

"What did the Captain do before turning pirate?"

JD watched on, curious and rather taken aback, as the look on Ben's face became far off; as if he were staring directly into a memory. The older man shook his head after another moment or two, turning back to the younger boy with an apologetic smile. "It's not really my place to get into all of that, buddy. Anyway, I need to get back out there. Practice is gonna start soon. You interested in watching?"

JD didn't know what they were apparently going to be practicing for, nor did he like being turned away from his question. It worried him, more than anything, but he didn't want to be pushy either, so he nodded. Besides, it was about time to get out of the cabin again and venture about the ship. "What kind of practice do you do? What's it for?"

Benjamin grinned broadly, his eyes sparkling as he threw his arms behind his head in a couple of quick stretches. "You'll see."

--

Out on the main deck, all the crewmen were gathered together, picking a partner and standing by the railing in anticipation. Jonathan looked on, curious as to everything that was taking place before him.

"JD!"

The brunet turned to the familiar voice of his new best friend, eager to be with somebody he was already acquainted with. "Christopher!"

"Oh, you can call me 'Turk,' if you want. I'm sure you noticed Ben calling me that before. Yeah, not the cleverest of nicknames around here, but I like it."

"Okay then. So, Turk, what's going on?"

"Sparring practice!"

"'Sparring?'"

"Yeah, you know, fighting? We all pick a partner and practice sword fighting with each other."

"_Sword_ fighting? That sounds awesome!"

"Hell yeah it is! Hey, you want to practice with me? I know you don't have a sword yet, but I'm sure one of the crew could let you borrow one of –"

"No."

The two of them turned around quickly, the stern and familiar voice of Captain Percival having cut through their conversation.

JD looked up at him shyly, noticing that Percival was looking right over him and instead staring straight at Christopher.

"He's going to watch, but he's not going to participate."

"Why not?"

The way the older man brought his arms across his chest seemed a thousand times more threatening than JD could ever remember during his two weeks of bed rest. "I'm sorry, Baldy, but did I wake up in another universe where _you_ were the one in charge of running this ship? Because I am ra-_heely_ not in the mood for whatever complaints you feel the need to throw at me, I'm not. So find a partner and wait with the rest of these incompetent peons for me and Benjamin to begin, understand?"

Christopher nodded stiffly, jaw shut tight in frustrated restraint, as Percival stormed off in the other direction.

"Can you believe that guy? What does he think I'm gonna do? I'd obviously be careful with you in the beginning, you know? And c'mon, you're gonna have to learn sometime, right? I mean, I really can't understand why…"

As Christopher continued on in his ranting, JD continued to stare down at the ship's floor boards. He'd been looking forward to holding a real sword, but the disappointment in having to wait didn't even compare to the one thing that was really bothering him. Jonathan swallowed as only one thought went through his mind over and over again: _He didn't even look at me…_

--

It wasn't long at all until Ben came bounding into the middle of the patiently awaiting pirates, cheerfully taking his place beside the Captain. The crew member's swords were all at ease, looking on at the two and waiting for what they'd be working on today. JD, focusing now on morphing his hurt from being ignored into that of excitement for what he was about to witness, sat on the edge of one of the railings, dangling his feet and listening closely to the Captain's words.

"Alright, annoyances, pay close attention to how Benjamin and I spar with one another. You'll be practicing this style today and here on out with which ever other incompetent pirate you chose to work with."

At the same time in an identical fashion, both Percival and Benjamin withdrew their swords. Jonathan's eyes went wide at the sight of their weapons. He didn't know much about sword making, but it was clear even to a Newbie like himself that the craftsmanship behind those pieces were extraordinarily well done.

But before he could really take in the way the handle was constructed or how well the blade had been crafted, the two were at it; their swords clanging and clinging under the sea's bright sun.

Jonathan watched, fascinated, as the two started out in seemingly simple steps, moving themselves this way and that with a practiced ease. But before long, the two were throwing themselves at each other, the circle that had been clustered around them now broken in order to let them wander freely about the ship.

Still, their fight remained close enough to the crewmen, so that they were able to witness what it was they were doing. Jonathan, who now found himself having to concentrate just to keep up with the speed in which they were moving, couldn't help but be in awe at what was taking place before him. It didn't even seem like a fight any more. The style was almost dance like; their movements smooth but fierce, controlled but wild. It was something JD was now very, _very_ interested in learning.

Between the clinging and clanging of their swords, the brunet saw a sudden smirk form across Percival's face. Ben returned it with a grin of his own, the two of them letting out small, exhilarated bursts of laughter; enjoying the moment and forgetting that they were, in fact, teaching.

"You're going down, Benji."

"Oh really? Because I'm pretty sure I'm going faster than you right now."

"Faster than _me?_ Please. _Nobody_ can move faster than me."

JD, upon hearing the Captain's boast, couldn't help but recall Christopher's words from earlier. "_You don't hear 'Captain,' and 'Great,' in the same sentence a lot on this ship, unless you're referring to his skills or whatever. But even then, I wouldn't. I mean, I'll admit any day that he's good, but not in front of 'im. Guy's an ego-maniac."_

For the first time since being pulled onto _the Sacred Heart_, Jonathan was witnessing the Captain's ego, but it didn't bother him. It didn't even _annoy_ him. The Captain was undoubtedly good, and if he ever had the chance, JD would tell him just how good he thought he was. Well, if Percival was still talking to him, that is… Still, he didn't see what was wrong with having a bit of an ego, especially when he was sparring with a friend. Not only that, but didn't you sort of _have_ to have a certain amount of confidence if you were going to survive out at sea? Jonathan had witnessed for himself what too big of an ego could do to a person. Captain Robert had thought his ship thee most unstoppable vessel out there. His ego was too big for his own good, and a storm had proved him wrong. But he wasn't getting that same vibe from the two men before him now.

A sudden clang of swords, much louder than the last few, returned Jonathan to the present. The two had finally come to a halt, the tip of their swords pointed at one another in mirrored reflection. They were breathing hard, grinning, and from where JD sat watching, he could feel the waves emitting from their beings; the thrill at being able to let loose and forget whatever it was that had been weighing them down; at least for a little while.

Jonathan unglued his eyes from the two long enough to glance at the others, who also seemed intrigued with the fight that had just taken place before them.

"What _was_ that?" he heard Turk finally ask from the railing parallel to his own.

"We made it up!" Ben responded cheerily, putting his sword back in its sheath.

"You m-made it-it up?" the nervous crewmen intervened.

"Benjamin and I have been working on various forms of fighting that focus more on speed than anything else, because honestly, brute force just doesn't cut it anymore. We took a bunch of styles then added our own way of approaching it into the mix. This form of fighting is best used in one on one combat or if you find yourself against three or so opponents. Thing is, if we were to be attacked right now, not all of us should use this method. Group on group requires different forms of fighting, so that the enemy will remain surprised and not know what to expect from each individual crew member. So yes, this style of ours focuses more on speed, but for those of you who excel in brute force – " here the Captain paused to glance over at the tallest of the crewman, "this style will be taught to you as more of a back up."

Jonathan continued to sit on the railing as the pirates found their way back to their previously picked out sparring partner. Benjamin went around and instructed them all on what stance to start out in, when to pick up the pace, and so on. A large part of him wanted to join in, but a more prominent part of him had hoped that, when the Captain walked right past him to go into his cabin, he would've stopped to turn around and see how he was doing.

--

It was late at night, and Jonathan found himself stretched out on the deck, staring up at the stars above him. He hadn't bothered asking the Captain if it was still okay to sleep in his bed. Honestly, he wouldn't have asked him even if the older man _was_ still talking to him. (Or even looking at him, for that matter…) He'd forced Percival to sleep out on the deck for the past two weeks, and he didn't want to do that to him anymore.

Ben had given him a hammock of his own, telling him that most of the crewmen slept below deck. He knew this was a common thing, but he'd been shoved in the dark, _way_ down below the ship and completely by himself, every night he'd been aboard _the Fractured Enid._ He wasn't ready to do that again, so he took to setting up his hammock where he could see all of his surroundings and breathe in fresh air.

As he gazed up at his glittering friends in the sky, he found his mind drifting off once again towards home. Ever since he awoke to find out he'd been rescued, he'd gone ahead and assumed that the ship would be his new home. Despite the Captain's new found silent treatment towards him, he wasn't receiving the feeling that he was getting kicked off any time soon. He hadn't met the entire crew yet, but so far all of them, except for the really tall one, were definitely some of the friendliest people he had ever met. Was he eager to go back to his old life and continue on living in his old village? No. Did he want to get back home to his drunk of a mother and his reckless and teasing older brother? No. But they were still his family, and no matter what, he still loved them. He didn't feel right – spending his time on a ship and going on adventures – while his family remained back home, miles away, wondering whether or not he was dead or alive.

"See something interesting up there, kid?"

Jonathan jumped up from where he'd been laying, turning around so fast that he almost fell right back down again.

Percival was leaning against the door to his cabin, hands stuffed in his pockets and looking at the young boy with an odd combination of amusement and regret.

"I, um…yeah," JD stuttered, suddenly finding his feet very interesting. He didn't look back up, even when he heard the Captain walk his way and stand beside him. The two stood that way for what felt like forever; the summer night's air caressing their skin and combing through their hair.

"I'm not much of a star gazer, to be honest, unless I have to look at them for navigational purposes. But I can appreciate nights like tonight, I guess. I mean really…there's not a cloud up there."

Jonathan finally looked up, expecting to see the Captain staring down at him. But Percival, despite his claim at not being much of a star gazer, was looking intently at the sky above him. It was astounding how the man could look so concentrated, yet at the same time, so amazingly peaceful.

But whatever peace had been there a moment ago was now gone and tucked away, concentration and what looked to be – was that guilt? – taking over his expression completely. "I…didn't mean to snap at you today, Jonathan…"

JD, more than eager to accept any form of apology from the older man, nodded briskly. "It's fine, it's fine! You were just having a bad day and I –"

"No. It's not fine. Kid, listen to me. I'm not sure if you've been filled in or not, but I'm not exactly the most well liked Captain on these waters. Sure, everyone wants to find me, but that's only because of my reputation. They get here and see that I'm not all rainbows and sunshine and that yes, they actually _do_ have to work for their keep, and well…you're already friends with Christopher, I noticed, so I'm sure you must've heard some of this by now. Point is that it is very, _very_ important to me for these people to view me as they always have."

Jonathan, feeling as though Percival wasn't going to continue without some help, voiced his question. "Which is how…?"

"Bullet proof."

JD nodded silently, thinking of his earlier contemplation in regards to the man's ego. Maybe that confidence wasn't the only thing some people needed to survive out here. Maybe part of that, at least for the Captain, was being a hard ass.

"Now listen, kid," Percival cut in, shaking the brunet out of his thoughts, "I'm going to say two words that I ra-_heely _don't like to say. Two words that I haven't said in an _extremely_ long time." The Captain finally turned his attention away from the stars to look down at Jonathan, who was looking right back up at him with wide, awaiting blue eyes. "I'm sorry."

JD swallowed, a sudden swell of emotion rising in the pit of his stomach. People treated him badly all the time without a care or regret to follow. When he tried recalling the last time anybody had thrown a sincere apology his way, he couldn't. And now, this man before him, the same man who had saved his life, the same man who had just confessed that apologizing for something was _not_ his area of expertise, was doing just that. For him. "Thank you…" he whispered quietly. A calm seemed to settle over the both of them then, the waves lapping up against the side of the boat more of a comfort than easily dismissed background noise.

"So, kid…I have to ask…are you okay here?"

Jonathan looked up at him again, taken aback by what he assumed was an obvious question. "Of course! I mean…yes. Yes, thank you. I love it here, and I..."

"You…?"

JD swallowed. Hadn't he just been thinking on the family he'd been forced to leave behind? Hadn't the guilt of not letting them know whether he was dead or alive been eating at him?

"JD…do you miss your family?"

The brunet, suddenly feeling both selfish and ashamed, hung his head low. "I don't, which is really horrible, I know, but they're still my family and I…I feel guilty being out here in wonderful condition while they're back home not knowing what's become of me. I…before I can do anything with my life, I need to…I need to let them know I'm okay."

Unbeknownst to the used-to-be-cabin-boy, Percival was swallowing his own lump of guilt. Guilt for not having wanted that answer, guilt for having it taken so much of him just to even ask, and guilt for a multitude of things that he would refuse to let himself talk about again, no matter how much Benjamin protested otherwise…

"Listen, Newbie, we should be making port in a few days or so. It was Benjamin's idea to introduce you to some new experiences, but while we're there, I'm going to pick up our needed supplies, and from there, I guess we'll…from there, we'll sail you back to your town and get you home."

Jonathan's eyes were wide when he turned to face the Captain again, his mouth hanging open ever so slightly. "You…you'd do that? You'd really…you'd really do all that? For me? But you've already done so much. I can't…I don't even…"

"Relax, alright? You're a kid, Newbie, and kids should be with their family… I'm sure your father's going crazy without his son around."

"Oh, um…I don't…I don't have a father. He, um…he died."

Percival inwardly cursed himself for bringing up his own assumption. Damn it, he was so bad at these serious kinds of conversations. Comforting someone on the death of a family member, however…he'd gotten pretty used to that… Still, this was different. "I'm sorry, Jonathan."

The brunet nodded silently, doing his best to pull off a convincing shrug. "It's okay…"

Another long silence encased them both, before the older of the two finally spoke again. "Your injuries can't be perfectly healed up yet, and I'm sure your body's completely worn after your first day back on your feet. Lose the hammock for now and come on back into the cabin. You need a good rest."

"I…but you've slept out here for the past two weeks! I can't, not with everything you've done so far."

"What if I tell you it's an order? And what if I were to tell you that there's a cot under my bed, and that I could still sleep in the privacy of my cabin while _you_ slept in an actual bed?"

"Really…?"

"Really, kid. Now c'mon. You're gonna need all the rest you can get."

"Huh? How come?"

"Because tomorrow I'm going to start teaching you that style Benji and I displayed for the lot of you today."

Jonathan instantly perked. Not only was he going to be taught how to handle a sword, but the Captain was going to teach him himself!? "Thank you, Captain!"

A small grin took hold of the older man's expression as he nodded, leading the way into his cabin. Jonathan stopped at the door, however, when he realized he'd left his hammock out on the deck. "Oh, um…I'll be right there. I have to get my hammock."

Percival gave another nod as he went inside, leaving the young boy alone to retrieve what was given to him earlier.

As JD went about untying his hammock from where he had set it up, a small whistle caught his attention. The boy startled, and when his eyes finally landed on the source of the noise, he couldn't help the small twist of fear his stomach gave.

The tallest of the crewman, the one who had helped Percival save his life, was leaning against the main mast, a frown set in place as he wiggled a shilling back and fourth between his thumb and index finger. "I'm watching you!" he sing-songed menacingly.

Jonathan's eyes grew large as he dashed off to the cabin, forgoing his hammock all together. At least, this time when he went to see Percival, he knew he would not be yelled at.

_**A/N:**_ _So the plot is finally set into motion! And never fear: Percival, now that he's apologized to JD, isn't suddenly going to turn into a pile of goo for the rest of the story. He's still going to have that Coxian attitude we've all come to know and love. (Or at least that's what I'm aiming for. lol) Anyway, that about wraps it up for now. Until next time!_


	6. Chapter VI

_**A/N: **__Hey, guys! Well, there's not really much to say this time around, but I will say what I always say and what I always mean sincerely: Thank you all so much for the wonderful feedback. I know by this point, you guys might think I put that in there just to be polite, but honest to God, I mean it full heartedly. Anyway, I guess that's enough out of me for now. Hope you enjoy the chapter!_

_**Disclaimer:**_ _I own a very large nothing._

**Chapter VI:**

"_You might be a big fish in a little pond. Doesn't mean you've won, 'cause along may come a bigger one."_

_-Lost, by Coldplay-_

Percival sat quietly at his desk, mixing medicines and taking notes on little things he would notice or come across during his work. It was early in the morning, and the sun was low in the sky, having just risen above the horizon to cast soft shadows along the ship that was _the Sacred Heart._ Of course, the older man was used to being up so early as he was now. He'd always been an early riser, no matter what the circumstances. He used to enjoy the quiet of it all, to be honest, but ever since that particular series of events unfolded, he found himself hating his habit of awaking before anybody else. It was _too_ quiet, and a silence such as the one he found himself in now gave him too much of an opportunity to think. Which was why, instead of going out on the deck and taking in the feel of the sun's soft rays, Percival would reside within his cabin until the morning bell was rung, beckoning them out and into the open. Then he could at least focus his mind on his work.

A quiet, little mumble came from the mess of blankets that was splayed about on the bed from across the room. Percival instinctively looked up in the direction of its new occupant, unable to prevent the small grin that took hold of his expression.

Jonathan lay sprawled out on the mattress, his chest moving up and down in a rhythm of sound sleep. His limbs – still too skinny for the Captain to consider healthy – were entangled in the quilts and blankets that had been given to him the night before.

Percival's grin only managed to widen as the young brunet suddenly curled in on himself, drawing one of the blankets closer to his body and snuggling further into its warmth.

For the past two weeks or so, the Captain had ordered the morning bell _not_ to be rung. He hadn't wanted the kid to wake up earlier than his body told him to, so instead, he had gone about waking the crew up himself. Not individually of course. It was more like shouting a simple, "Wake the hell up," and then watching them all either fall, crawl, or sprint out of their hammocks at once. Except for Ben, of course, who would just give the older man a simple wave of the hand before turning over and sleeping for an extra ten minutes or so. _Then_ he would get up. This, though, was normal Benjamin behavior.

Still, the kid's injuries were well enough now where he did not need the amount of sleep he'd been getting for the past couple of weeks. He'd told Ben to start ringing the morning bell again, trying to ease the kid back into the daily life of living aboard a ship; one step at a time.

The red headed man knew it'd be ringing soon enough. Maybe Jonathan would be used to it from his stay on _the Fractured Enid,_ but then again, after two weeks of bed rest and no sound of an alarm, his reaction could be a little…

The bell tolled loudly, and Percival could faintly here the too-joyous sound of the first mate screaming, "Up, the lot of you, up! Breakfast, breakfast, breakfast!" What followed that was a surprised yelp from the used-to-be-cabin-boy. He had popped up so quickly that Percival himself gave a small start of surprise.

Clearly dazed from having been awaken so abruptly, the brunet began looking about the room, wide eyed, as if trying to locate the source of whatever had just startled him.

"Relax, kid," the Captain spoke finally, giving Jonathan yet another shock, "It's the morning bell. You didn't have one on that God awful ship?"

Jonathan just blinked at him for a second, as if noticing him there for the first time since awakening. Soon after he was blushing, rubbing the back of his neck in obvious embarrassment. "Oh, um, yeah… Since I was a kid, I could sleep through anything. Storms, fights, all that stuff… My mother or brother would always have to wake me up themselves, so I had to really train my body to respond to the alarm on _the Fractured Enid._ I guess I just got used to sleeping without it again that it surprised me so much, but, well, it got me up, right? So that's good…"

Percival frowned. He knew even little things such as an alarm would be a part of the kid's transition from the harshness of his old ship to that of _the Sacred Heart_, but he didn't think something as small as the morning bell would have him thinking about it so intently. "Don't worry there, Jonathan, alright? It'll become as natural a sound as anything else eventually. You'll be able to get up without a scare."

He'd been aiming for something to that of a joke, but when the kid's blush only deepened, he couldn't help but roll his eyes. "It's _okay_, kid, alright? Honest to God. Now c'mon, let's go get some food. I'm sure you've gotta be hungry, and I could reall_y_ use something to eat myself."

--

Jonathan followed the Captain below deck, oddly nervous about entering the galley. He hadn't stepped foot into yet, having had his breakfast brought to him for the past two weeks or so. Not that he was complaining about going there himself, of course, but he couldn't help but think back on the galley from _the Fractured Enid._ He'd always been last to receive his "food," and had been secluded to the farthest corner from the rest of the crew while eating.

Would that be the way of things here?

The brunet shook his head. No. He had to stop his worrying. He had to keep reminding himself that this wasn't, in fact, _the Fractured Enid._ That ship was no longer in existence, the same way it's captain was no longer in existence as well. He didn't have to worry about that anymore.

Finally in the galley, the young lad was instantly welcomed by the sweet smell of food. A hand was suddenly on his shoulder, bringing him out of his longing. "I'm gonna go grab something to eat, but then I'm heading up to the cabin."

"Um…do I…?"

"You're going to stay here and eat with the rest of the crew."

Jonathan tried not to let his disappointment show, but he was comforted by the words that next left Percival's lips. "You're going to eat _with_ the crew; not at a distance. Don't worry, John. No ones putting you out in the cold on this ship."

The brunet nodded thankfully, watching the red headed Captain walk away. It wasn't until he was almost out of sight did he see the older man stop and lean over to whisper in his first mate's ear, who appeared to be in charge of serving the crew as they came. JD was sure to look away when Benjamin's eyes flickered to where he stood. Was he in trouble? Did he do something wrong? The boy swallowed down a lump of nerves and went to stand in line. He had to be brave. He couldn't allow himself to worry so much.

As Jonathan continued to give himself an inward pep talk, a very large, very familiar individual took a giant step around and in front of him, snatching the empty plate from his hand as he did so. Before the boy could stop himself, the words were out of his mouth, laced with wary confusion: "What was that for?"

It wasn't asked with malice, but it was enough for the tallest of the crewman to turn around and glare. "Oh, I see. Just because I'm a pirate, I can't possibly be hungry? I'm not important enough as the others to get food? Is that what you're saying?"

"I-I…no. No. I didn't mean that. I just…"

"And it's not like you can't just grab another one, you know."

JD turned to where the crewman was pointing and picked up another plate from the stacks, embarrassed. The taller of the two let out a small, "Tsk," before moving forward and receiving his food from Benjamin.

Jonathan, happy that it was finally his turn (and that the Shilling Guy had gone to take his seat) approached the first mate with a smile.

"Hey, kid!" he shouted joyously, beating JD to saying hi himself. "Feeling better this morning?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. My stitches are healing up really well. Hey, Ben…do you always serve the meals?"

"Nope! We rotate; the crewmen, I mean. This week's just my turn, that's all. Anyway, you hungry?"

Jonathan nodded eagerly, and couldn't help but be surprised at how much the first mate was serving him. He never thought he'd find himself saying, "That's enough," in terms of food, but if he hadn't cut Ben off, he was sure his plate would have become too heavy to carry.

"That's a lot of food!" he finally managed, trying to find a good hold on his plate.

"Captain's orders!" Ben said through his grin. "Enjoy, buddy."

Jonathan tried not to smile upon hearing that the Captain had wanted him to eat more. He gave a small nod before turning away from the first mate, only to find that he was at a total loss as to where he was supposed to sit. Percival had said anywhere was fine; that he didn't have to sit in the corner by himself anymore. But he didn't know everybody here yet either, so where was he supposed to –

"JD! JD, over here!"

The brunet instantly perked at the sound of Christopher's voice. He spotted him waving towards him wildly at a table not so far away, and was over and seated across from him in a heart beat.

"Wow, man, you got a lot of food!"

"I think they're worried about my weight."

"Yeah, well…you _are_ pretty skinny. But don't worry, you'll get better. We eat pretty well for pirates, and the work we do on the ship helps keep us fit, you know? Anyway, thought I'd go ahead and introduce you to some of the other crewmen."

Turk went about introducing him to people he had only seen but never yet talked to. There was Lonnie, who seemed rather indifferent to JD being there. Then there was a man named Wen, who was very mild mannered and polite. Then after that he was introduced to an older man named Seymour, who, for one reason or another, would not stop stroking his beard. Then there was another guy named Lloyd, who seemed nice but a little wild. The last person he was introduced to, however, was definitely the one that caused Jonathan the biggest amount of confusion.

"And this is Todd," Christopher finally finished.

"Welcome to _the Sacred Heart_ Five!"

The brunet tried not to wince as Todd thrust his hand into the air, thinking that he was getting ready to be hit. But when the crewman just sat there with his hand raised but unmoving, clearly waiting for him to do something, Jonathan found himself at a loss. What was this? What was he supposed to do?

Hesitantly, he looked towards Turk for help, who had quietly raised his own hand in the air, illustrating to him what was supposed to be done. JD followed as instructed, and bit back a small yelp of pain as the guy before him brought his hand against his own; hard. He drew back with a snap of his fingers and grinned. "Oh yeah!" Todd cheered happily. And, as if nothing unusual had just taken place, the strange crewman went back to eating his food.

Jonathan looked back at Christopher, who was smiling at him sympathetically. "What was that?" he whispered in shock, still rubbing his hand underneath the table.

"I don't know. None of us do. It's just…something he does."

After what was one of the weirdest introductions JD had ever experienced, he started in on his own food, though he couldn't help but feel guilty at knowing he wouldn't be able to finish it all. They ate with little conversation, all of them clearly focused on their breakfast, and Jonathan was surprised that he _did,_ in fact, come close to finishing what was given to him earlier.

About half an hour after he had first entered the galley, another bell was rung, in which everyone stood from their tables and went out onto the main deck.

"What's happening now?" JD whispered to Turk on the way.

The bald man just laughed. "Calm down, man, you don't have to whisper. It's just time to start whatever jobs we have today, that's all. Actually, I wonder what the Captain will have you do, now that you're a part of the crew."

Jonathan swallowed. A great part of him had swelled with happiness upon hearing someone tell him he was a part of the crew. He wanted to be; badly. But he knew after his conversation with Percival last night that, that just wasn't going to happen. "Actually…" he started up nervously, "The Captain told me last night that...that, um…that he's taking me back home."

Turk stopped mid stride, clearly taken aback. "What? What the hell!? He snaps at you for no reason and then –"

"What? Oh, no! No, that's not it at all. The Captain, he – " JD had been getting ready to tell him about Percival's apology, but, remembering the older man's desire to appear, "Bullet proof," he decided to leave that part of the explanation untold. "Last night the Captain asked me if I was okay here, and I am, but I'm worried about my family back home. They don't know whether I'm dead or alive, and I can't stay here without them knowing I'm okay, so the Captain agreed to bring me back to them."

"Man…I can't believe that! I mean, don't get me wrong…I'm glad you're getting to go home, and I'm glad you're not, well, you know…uncomfortable here or anything. But I was kind of looking forward to having you around…"

"Yeah," JD responded sadly, the swell of bittersweet emotion rising in the pit of his stomach, "Me too."

--

Jonathan watched as the crewmen were given their various jobs, scurrying off to wherever they'd been directed to. All of them seemed content with what they were working on that day, even if one was more adapt to cleaning the canons rather than swabbing the main deck. Either way, they were good at what they did; comfortable enough with the ship and their surroundings to get the job done and get it done right. (Except for maybe Douglas, who still seemed really nervous no matter what job he'd been given)

JD looked around at all the crewmen, working hard. Why hadn't he been assigned anything? The Captain had bypassed him after giving out instructions and headed towards his cabin, closing the door behind him. He wasn't mad at him again, right? Then why? Was it because he was still too weak…? Or maybe, since he wasn't _really_ a part of the crew, the Captain didn't bother giving him a task?

Jonathan swallowed. He wanted to repay him somehow, but how could he if he wasn't given the opportunity? And how could he just stand there and watch all of the others work while he just sat back and did nothing? He didn't like that at all. It just felt…wrong.

But before he could worry any further on his current situation, a strong hand clasped itself onto his shoulder, making him jump. Jonathan turned around to find the Captain staring down at him, his free hand holding onto the hilt of his – oh yeah!

"Come," Percival commanded, and the young boy followed instantly, trying not to beam (or throw up from nerves, actually) from the excitement that was to be his first sword lesson.

--

Percival led Jonathan below deck. It'd be a bit hard to practice in, as there wasn't nearly as much room as their was on the main deck, where he and Ben had first performed their newly created fighting style, but he was only going to start the kid off by showing him the basics anyway. His injuries were still prominent enough where a great deal of running around wouldn't be the wisest of moves to make.

Once there, he began moving barrels of rum and gun powder out of the way and up against the ship's walls. From the corner of his eye, he could see the young lad standing where he'd left him. He rocked on his heels awkwardly, looking both very excited and very nervous.

Percival was glad he'd picked this place for their first lesson. Not only was it cooler down there, but it would allow the Captain to be, well, gentler with him. Gentler than he'd be able to be on the main deck where everybody was watching. He'd been more than sincere when apologizing to the kid just last night, but that didn't mean it wouldn't be difficult to openly show him affection while others who he'd worked so hard at gaining respect sat by and watched.

"Alright, kid, you ready?"

Jonathan bobbed his head vigorously, and while it was most definitely darker than the deck above, despite the several lamps that were now lit, he was almost certain the kid had paled upon hearing it was time to begin.

Percival, neglecting the hip that his real sword was tied to, turned to the other and pulled out what could only be described as a stick. He tossed it to Jonathan casually, who failed to catch it. The Captain couldn't help but roll his eyes as the brunet stumbled over to pick it up with shaky hands, looking it over with confused curiosity. "Um…it's a stick."

"Really?" the older man asked sarcastically, making the younger of the two blush. Percival just shook his head and continued. "You'll be using that as a sword for now. Once you get the hang of the basic steps, you can start handling a real sword, but until then, that's going to be your weapon."

The Captain tried not to grin at the kid's obvious disappointment. Not that he enjoyed seeing him upset, but in their current scenario, it was sort of amusing. After a moment of looking him over, contemplating what it was he'd show him first, he decided the best way to approach it was to show him the proper stance himself.

Percival drew out his sword, the light from the lamps around them glistening off of the meticulously crafted steel. He couldn't help that his ego inflated just a little upon seeing the kid's eyes widen in awe. He'd never received so much admiration just for pulling out his sword, that's for sure.

The older man walked over to him then, standing along side him in a beginner's stance. When he looked down to see if the kid was mirroring his current posture, he found the used-to-be-cabin boy taking a few steps away, his face looking flustered. It was no surprise, though he liked to tell himself it was, that the kid's behavior upset him. Why was he moving away? "Something you'd like to share, Newbie? Or am I supposed to just stand here all day and wait for you to mirror me."

The brunet flushed instantly, making Percival regret his words. He had to remind himself that the sarcasm wasn't necessary. No one was watching, and damn it, even if they were, he really needed to pull it back some. The kid wasn't used to this side of him, and he sure as hell wasn't old enough, or emotionally ready enough, to interpret what was real frustration from what was just his usual sarcastic remarks. "Listen, Jonathan, it's your first lesson here, alright? It's important that you pay attention, but if something's wrong to the point where you're having trouble there, then I would ra-_heely_ suggest enlightening me as to why you keep moving away."

The kid fiddled with his stick for a moment before answering, clearly startled at having been called out. "I…you're very…"

Percival felt his eyebrows come together, perplexed. "I'm very…? I'm very what?"

"You're very, um…you're very tall. And you're holding that sword, and…and you're kind of, I mean…it's kind of…"

Percival lowered his weapon slowly, the realization of what the kid was trying to say hitting him all at once.

He was scaring him.

If it was anybody else, any other pirate or enemy or anybody at all who backed up upon watching him withdraw his sword and going into a fighters stance – hell, he'd seen the reaction enough times to know he was a good fighter; to know how intimidating he could be. And damn it, he not only wanted that, but _needed_ people to see him that way. It was survival, if nothing else, but he realized then in there that he sure as hell never wanted the kid who was currently stuttering at the floor to be afraid of him. "Jonathan," he started again, and this time, his tone was very similar to that of the one he had used during the boy's first two weeks upon _the Sacred Heart._ "Jonathan, this sword is not for you. It is to never be used on you. Alright…?"

The lad's head shot up at once, clearly taken aback. "What? No! I...I didn't think you ever would, Captain. I wasn't trying to –"

"I know you didn't, but I'm letting you know either way, understand? Now come over here and position yourself the way I am. That's right. Good. Okay, left foot there. That's right; align it with your shoulders. Straight back, kid. Okay, good. Heel should be up off the floor on your back foot there. Little more. Yeah, that's it. Now watch me and follow."

The next hour followed the pattern in which Percival had first begun the kid's lesson. The Captain would set himself up in a stance, have Jonathan mirror him, and then the older man would step forward and swing, slashing through whatever imaginary object he had set up for himself in his mind's eye. Jonathan would follow suit and wait for the Captain to instruct him on what it was that needed fixing. The kid was awkward at first; his body not exactly one that was built for sword fighting (or fighting of any kind, for that matter) but he was both quick and eager to learn, and by the end of the first hour, he was able to do the first five steps by himself.

"Alright, kid, I think we'll leave it at that for today. Not to mention I've been away from the main deck for a full hour, and God only knows that something is bound to go wrong if I'm not up there to fix it."

"Okay," JD said through a weary intake of breath.

Percival looked at the small kid before him, clearly tired from his work out, but still managing to look satisfied. His face was flushed with the exercise, but his eyes glittered with all he had just learned. The Captain couldn't stop himself. He had meant to give him a nod, tell him to practice before his next lesson, and depart for the main deck. End of discussion. But instead, he found himself wanting that sparkle beneath the kid's eyes to glisten even more. "You did really well here, Jonathan. You did."

Percival had to put in much more effort than he expected to, to keep from smiling. After blinking at him in what could only be described as shock, the boy's face broke out into a broad smile, his eyes practically dancing as his face flushed even more. Except this time, it was due to praise. "Thank you!" he finally managed, and despite the Captain's best efforts, his own expression let a small grin play out onto his features.

"Sure thing there, Newbie."

--

Between _the Sacred Heart_ and a single, battered long boat lay a vast amount of ocean. So vast, in fact, that even if one were to put a spyglass against their brown, sad eye, they would not be able to spot the vessel that so clearly out weighed their own. "I don't see anything, Captain," he stated drearily, bringing the seeing instrument back down to his side.

"Look harder, damn it! Didn't I just get done explaining to you that we're almost out of provisions!? It's been _how_ many weeks now?"

"I'd say two, Captain, but I'm not really sure since –"

The balding man was silenced as a fist came hurtling his way, punching him hard in the jaw and cutting his lip. He fell backwards and out of the long boat, and was left to flail about before finally grabbing hold of the boats side and hauling himself back onboard; no help at all from the man who had just caused his first mate so much grief.

"Just give me the damn spy glass and let me look for myself!"

The Captain grabbed the abandoned instrument as the sweaty first mate went about collecting himself, not having expected the blow to shock him as much as it did. After all, it was normalcy.

He watched in a sort of dreary state of doom as his superior stood from his place on the boat, the glass pressed against his eye as he carefully scanned the horizon. He jumped in surprise when his Captain next spoke, his voice dripping with victorious malice. "PORT! I SEE PORT!"

"H-How long away from where we are?"

"Two days at the most, so here's the plan: We make port, _you_ find me a new ship to steal, you _then_ find me a new crew to harass, and then _I'll_ go about sailing these waters and taking all that I can find. Understood?"

"Aye, Captain."

"Aye indeed, Theodore."

_**A/N:**_ _I'm not sure if that would be considered a cliffhanger or not, but if it is, I'm sorry. I never write them for funsies. I only write them when I think it's a good place for the chapter to end or if it seems appropriate. Anyway, that's about it from me. Hope you guys enjoyed it, and until next time!_


	7. Chapter VII

_**A/N: **__Alright, so this chapter is a bit shorter than my usual length for this story. It wasn't on purpose, I assure you. It just sort of worked out that way. Anyway, before we begin here, I would once again like to thank you all for the wonderful support and feedback this story has gotten so far. Trust me when I say that your words never go unappreciated. Anyway, that's about it from me. Hope you enjoy!  
_

_**Disclaimer:**_ _I own a very large nothing._

"_There's one man, he's like the wishful thinking in my life, I see so… And he's like the wine on the weekend. And though he is like the sea, and it's right he be so, if I hold tight he'll wash over me."_

_-Sea Song, by Lisa Hannigan-_

**Chapter VII**

It was during dinner when Percival made the announcement.

Jonathan startled mid bite as Ben reached over to give the bell a good ten rings before leaning back into his seat, staring up at the Captain with a smile. Percival was now standing on a barrel of something Jonathan could only guess what; arms crossed and waiting for silence.

He didn't have to wait for long.

The entire galley turned in his direction, their mouths shutting at once upon seeing his hand reach out to flick his nose.

"Glad to have your attention, ladies," he started up the minute it got quiet. "Now I know you've been wondering where it is this vessel's been heading for next. We're not after any sort of gold this time, angels, but in about – let's say a week from now – we're going to be making port." Here the older man stopped to let his crew erupt into cheers, as it was inevitable for them to do so. After so many months out at sea, even if you _did_ love the ocean, making port was always a blessing. Percival gave a sharp whistle, interrupting the excited men before him to continue on with his announcement, "So after we make port, we're to come right back on board of _the Sacred Heart_ and take our newest crew memb – young Jonathan here home."

The brunet instantly flushed, all eyes suddenly on him. Most of them seemed saddened by the announcement of his soon-to-be-absence, though he couldn't help but notice the small scowl that came over the Shilling Guy's face. Whether it was because they were taking time out to bring him home, or that he was losing his brand new punching bag, JD didn't know.

"Stop staring, will you girls?"

The galley at once turned back to Percival, a few mutterings of surprise that the older man would even _give_ a rat's ass that everyone had been staring at the younger boy. Luckily for them, he did not hear their murmuring.

"After that we will find a large fleet to plunder, but until then, that's the plan."

The Captain gave his nose another solid flick before hoping down off of what seemed to be called, "The Announcement Barrel," and then the galley started up again on whatever conversation they had been interrupted from.

Turk gave Jonathan a small smile before turning back to his meal. JD swallowed. Leaving _the Sacred Heart_ was going to be harder than he thought.

--

Percival left the galley in what he hoped appeared to be a normal stride. In actuality, he was in a hurry. He needed the sea before him; the feel of the wheel against his calloused palms. There he could think and put his thoughts into some sort of perspective, because right now, his mind was just about everywhere.

Usually, the Captain would make his announcements at breakfast. So why had he waited to make this particular announcement at dinner? It couldn't be that he was stalling, was it? Avoiding the truth of having to let go of the kid he had already gotten so used to being there?

The older man shook his head, beyond frustrated. Just because he saved the kid's life didn't mean he got to keep him, damn it! But it wasn't like that, and he knew it. The battle waging inside of his head wasn't a simple matter of finder's keepers. He had connected with the kid; saw in that young boy something dear to him he had lost, and God…he didn't want to lose it again. Not again. Not –

The older man curled his hands into fists; tightly. He would not, _not_ permit himself to think on those memories. And besides…Jonathan wasn't a replacement. It was never that. It was just –

"Captain? Did you even eat yet?"

The curly haired man eased up considerably upon hearing the voice of his first mate. God only knew how much he needed the distraction. "No, Ben, I didn't eat yet, but I'm not hungry tonight, I assure you."

"Loss of appetite, eh? Weird, considering you're usually up for food. Healthy food of course, but still, I've only once ever seen you –"

"God, Ben, what is it?"

Ben stopped, eyebrows raised in surprise at the tired frustration that laced his Captain's voice. He'd known him long enough to know that, that frustration wasn't aimed towards him, but he would bet his money that whatever _did_ have him frustrated was also the very same thing that was currently keeping him from eating. "Not the announcement you wanted to make, huh?"

Percival scrubbed his face with both hands, suddenly way too tired to feel angry. Maybe he would've snapped if it had been any other crewmember, but damn…he just couldn't bring himself to yell when it was Benjamin.

"No, Ben, it really, ra-_heely_ wasn't. Are you happy now?"

"I'm happy that you told me, but if it makes you feel any better, that wasn't the announcement I wanted to hear."

"It's not like you didn't know about it already. I told you this afternoon."

"Just saying. Hey...did you notice the look on JD's face? He didn't seem particularly happy about it either. Pretty odd, considering he's the one who requested to go home." Of course, Ben's observation skills were better than that. He knew JD wanted to go home, and understood the boy's reasons as told to him by the Captain, but the kid's expression had made it very, _very_ clear that it wasn't an idea he was predominantly excited about. Surely the Captain knew that as well…?

"I did, Ben, but what difference does that make? Kid's gotta get home, and I'm gonna help him get there." Percival's words were only half of the truth. Really, if he allowed himself to think too much on the expression the kid had given when hearing the announcement out loud, then it would've been easy – _tempting, _even – to forgo it all together and have the boy remain on the ship. And he couldn't do that. He had a responsibility to get the kid back home. And hell, he was the adult here! While it may've been very true that a large part of JD wanted to remain on _the Sacred Heart, _it was Percival's job as both the adult and the Captain to stick to the plan, because while the kid may not like it so much now, he knew in the long run that that's where the used-to-be-cabin-boy was supposed to be: with his family. He couldn't deprive him of that.

Benjamin, sensing now that the Captain was in need of some alone time, saluted him with a small smile. "I'm going back to the galley, but call me, Per-Per! You know I'm here if you need something."

Percival didn't know whether to scowl at the nickname or grin at the familiarity of it all. Ben tried not to laugh at the obvious war that was going on through his expression, especially when the corner of the man's mouth literally twitched. "Just go eat your damn food, Benji."

The first mate did so with a grin.

--

After seeing the Captain leave the galley, a question Jonathan had been pondering over since the night before came back into his mind frame, making him get up and track the older man down. If, perhaps, he were to stay on the ship with him like the rest of the crew, he wouldn't be in such a rush to find him. But seeing as how his time was limited, and that even the time he did have with him was often surrounded by other people, JD was more than willing to leave some of his food behind to get a bit of alone time with Percival.

"Woah, there! What's the rush, little buddy?"

JD shook his head, dizzy from having just collided straight into Benjamin. The first mate hadn't even stumbled, but Jonathan was still blinking away the stars he was currently seeing in front of him. After a moment or two, the young brunet answered his question. "Not really, but, um…do you know which way the Captain went?"

"I think he's planning on taking the wheel for a while. I'm not sure if he's up for conver –" Benjamin stopped. The Captain wasn't going to yell at JD the way he had last time, especially since that announcement was still fresh in his head. And maybe, seeing as how he was still contemplating over what had happened, he'd be more open to whatever the kid wanted to talk to him about. Hopefully, it was something along the lines of not wanting to go back home… "Never mind. Anyway, kid, yeah – he's up on the main deck; probably getting ready to take the wheel."

Jonathan nodded gratefully, thankful for the first mate's consistent helping hand, and scurried away towards the main deck, eager to talk to his Captain.

--

Benjamin, of course, had been right.

Jonathan watched from a distance as Percival stood at the wheel, back towards the ship and his eyes undoubtedly focused on the sea. JD knew that the Captain wasn't aware of his presence; that whatever air that was currently stirring around him wasn't aimed in his direction, but the very sight of him – something _about_ him – was just so…_intimidating._ The way he stood at the wheel gave him the look of someone undeniably strong, someone you'd find yourself respecting almost instantly. Yet, at the same time, there was little there to fear. Not that Percival did not possess the ability to make one quiver in his wake, or, if he were to pull out his sword against you, your first instinct wouldn't be to run away, but he was not a man who set fear into those around him for malicious intent.

He just had a hard outer shell.

JD swallowed, suddenly nervous. The last time he had approached the Captain while he was at the wheel did not end well, but his curiosity was burning. Upon realizing what he'd wanted to ask him since that morning, he also remembered what he wanted to ask him since the beginning of his stay onboard the ship.

With another big breath, JD stepped forward, keeping himself a good five feet behind Percival. "Captain…?"

He watched, anxious, as the hands around the wheel clenched. Oh, no…

"Yeah, Newbie, what is it?"

Jonathan, who had been getting ready to turn away, looked back with a start. His hands were clenched, yeah, but…maybe it wasn't out of anger after all. And his voice certainly didn't _sound_ angry. It just sounded rather…tired. "I, um…I was wondering: Why are you teaching me how to handle a sword? Not that I'm complaining, because I'm very grateful, but I…if I'm not, um…not staying on the ship, then what's the point? I mean, I _like_ learning how to use it, I was just wondering why you personally thought it was, you know…worth teaching..."

There was a moment of silence in which JD stood awkward but patiently, waiting for the Captain to turn around and answer. Turn around he never did, but answering him, well… "You've been through a lot out here already, Jonathan, but what you haven't been through – and hopefully never will – is an actual fight; one crew against another's. And if that does happen, let me tell ya' something: You better hope it's the Navy and not another Pirate, because while the Navy would love nothing more than to see our necks hanging not so delicately from a noose, they do not fight the way an attacking pirate ship would fight. Much like your old captain – or rather, the devil – they will fight without mercy and without restraint and just straight out dirty. They're an odd combination of cowardice and strength. Those men don't want to see us hanging from the noose in terms of 'justice,' but they want to paint these boards with our blood. That's why I'm teaching you how to handle a sword. It's true that the only enemy I have out here _besides_ the Navy is currently lifeless below the sea, but that doesn't mean other pirates won't try their hand at seeing if they can take down this vessel along with it's continually talked about Captain. And kid – out here, you don't know when someone's getting ready to attack until it happens. If you're lucky, you'll be able to spot 'em coming from the crows nest, but even then, Newbie, even then, you don't have a lot of time to prepare. It's canons and swords and adrenaline, and hopefully, _hopefully_ skill that you're working with when they come out of nowhere, but you don't know if, when, or even where that'll happen. We don't have a huge journey ahead of us, but I want you to be prepared. I want you to be prepared in case it does."

JD could only stare at the back still facing him, wide eyed. Goose bumps had erupted along his skin from the older man's words. Why hadn't he thought of that? Why hadn't he thought of the possibility of being attacked? Maybe it's because, what with all of his time on _the Fractured Enid,_ he was used to being aboard a ship that did most of the attack_ing._ Not that he'd ever participated, of course. He'd always been thrown into the gallows before hand for "safe keeping." Of course, the ship he was on now wasn't exactly what one would call an easy target, and its Captain was most _definitely_ not someone that others would choose to voluntarily attack. But still…something Percival said had bothered him. He knew the older man had never killed before, but he _was_ a pirate, and didn't he just say… "How do you fight, Captain?" The question was spoken in a mere whisper, but the wind carried his query over to the older man in no time.

Percival turned around for the first time since their conversation began, the seriousness in his eyes alerting JD of something he hadn't even contemplated.

It was obvious from everything he had heard thus far that Percival did not kill, but it never once struck the young lad that he didn't kill just because. The reason he didn't kill, the reason he refused –

"I fight only when needed; when there's no other option and it's the only way to get out alive. And the sea can swallow me up right now if I'm lying, but no one has died by my sword."

The reason he didn't kill was because he hated it; because he knew, pirate or no, that it was undeniably and undoubtedly wrong.

He was different from every single one of the pirates JD had ever heard about; had ever witnessed. Yet, somehow, the man before him had managed to spread his name through out the sea; to gain the most respect among all of the other pirates that were out there.

Something awakened in JD then. He'd known the moment he heard the Captain's voice that he did not want to disappoint him; that he did not want to let him down. But suddenly, Jonathan found himself wanting to _be _him. He never thought himself prone to hero worship, but something upon hearing the Captain's words had bursted to life; bringing about a very strong, very pure sense of loyalty.

His other questions were forgotten as Percival began making his way towards him, and Jonathan was surprised when the older man's fingers were suddenly ruffling through his hair. It was very quick and very casual, but whatever force that had seemingly frozen the ship in time had vanished.

"Go on back to the galley, kid. There's no way you were finished with your food; not when I told Benji to give you an extra helping."

--

Hours later and Jonathan found himself sitting on the main deck, feet dangling through the railing and over the edge. The sun was setting off in the horizon, giving the ship a nice, warm glow. He was feeling full from diner, and had, had a good time sitting with Christopher and the rest of the crew members he had met earlier that day. (Even Todd, though his mannerisms still managed to both startle and confuse him) Somewhere in the distance a flock of seagulls were calling out, their voices high but oddly comforting. Jonathan couldn't help the content little sigh that escaped him. He felt so…_good!_

"It's great out here sometimes, isn't it?"

The brunet turned his head around, startled, but eased up instantly upon seeing the smiling face of Benjamin.

"I really wish I could've brought my canvases and paint with me out here, you know? Bet it would've made for a good painting."

JD turned back to the sea before him. The water was still and glistening, the sunset just adding to the sweetness of it all. "I'm sure it would've come out wonderfully."

Ben quirked a curious eyebrow. "What would have?"

"The sunset! That's what you wanted to paint, right?"

"C'mon, kid, you know I don't paint things like that! I showed you!"

"Then…what would you have painted? I don't see anything else especially remarkable out here."

The first mate let out a well natured laugh, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his coat as he approached the used-to-be-cabin-boy with a smile. "You, of course! Just now, watching you swing your legs all content like – a perfect moment in time; natural. You weren't posing or anything, you know? It would've made for a great piece of work."

Before JD could respond to the idea of someone painting him – as it struck him as truly unbelievable – Ben had thrown himself up on the railing, his back towards the ocean and his arms stretched out.

Jonathan watched as the first mate's wide smile turned into that of serene wonder. _He_ was a moment captured in time. The kind of individual anyone would want to meet and befriend. Feeling rather guilty for breaking the moment, he allowed his curiosity to voice the question he couldn't help but ask. "Ben…? What are you doing?"

The taller of the two opened his eyes and blinked, as if awaking from a tranquil dream. He looked towards their newest crew member as he jumped back down from the railing, smiling the way he'd been before. "I know, I know. People usually look _towards_ the sea when they think about stuff, right? But on nights like this – when the weather's perfect and the suns setting just right – I like to get up on the railing and turn my back to it all. Not because I dislike it or anything. In fact, it's the complete opposite. I like knowing something that peaceful is waiting right behind me, and I love when the wind glides under my arms when I stand there like that, you know? It feels like I'm flying, and God, wouldn't that be something? Sometimes I'd like to see if I could; to just let myself fall and know that the water would catch me." Ben peered over the railing then and grinned. "Of course, I'd pop right back up, soaked and laughing, and then ol' Per-Per would yell at me for being so stupid."

"You got that right."

The two turned around then, one startled and one still grinning broadly. "Oops," he joked casually, "Caught me using the forbidden nickname, didn't you?"

"Forget you heard that, Jonathan."

The brunet nodded, keeping his head low and praying to God that the Captain wouldn't notice his grin.

"And Benji; you better not think of following through on that fantasy of yours. 'Cause yeah, the water wouldn't kill ya', but I'd be forced to make anchor and drag your sorry ass back on board, and if the waters were cold enough, you _could _end up getting sick, you know, and of course there's – "

But Benjamin was laughing now, his eyes doing that almost addictive little dance they did when he was beyond joyous. "_Relax,_ Captain, alright? I was just enjoying myself for a little. Stop your worrying."

Percival just gave a small growl as he made his way towards the two brunets. The youngest of the three was surprised when he positioned himself in the middle of them both, his back leaning casually against the railing as he turned his head over his shoulder to stare at the melting sun. "Nice out," he mumbled. Ben just smiled as he turned back to the scene, and while Jonathan himself knew that the Captain's comment was supposed to be a form of dismissive acknowledgment, he knew his words had been sincere. It was a beautiful evening, in more ways than one.

_**A/N:**_ _I hope the ending to this chapter makes up for the last one. Oh, just a quick note, though a rather important one: Ben's speech about his back facing the sun was in no way shape or form related to suicide. I realized while re-reading it that some could interpret it that way, but I assure you that's not the case. It was strictly his way of relaxing. Anyway, that about sums it up for me. Hope you liked it, and until next time!_


	8. Chapter VIII

**_A/N: _**_This week has been crazy busy for me, but thankfully, I was able to write out another chapter and a half. It just scares me a little that I'm going to find myself behind in the game of keeping up, because I really don't want to keep you guys waiting any longer than you already have been, so Ill try to step it up and keep the chapters coming. Anyway, I'm personally rather fond of this chapter, but I'm hesitant to say that because I don't want to give it too much hype and have it turn out so-so. Anyway, before we begin here, thank you guys once again for all of the lovely feedback you've been sending my way. It means more than I can honestly express, so once again, I thank you. Enough out of me now. Enjoy the chapter!_

_**Important Note:** For some reason, when I went to post this chapter and, as always, viewed it through the edit/preview section, it took out all quotations, apostrophes, and a majority of spaces between words. I have no idea what's wrong with it, but I went through it all and can only hope I picked up and corrected all it took out. Feel free to point out something if I missed it, just try not to hold it against me. lol _

**_Disclaimer:_**_ I own a very large nothing. _

**Chapter VIII:**

_"What if we shared a pint? What if we cheered the same team? What if these moments between us mean more than we could dream?"_

_-Passerby, by Allie Moss-_

"Now _that,_ my dear Captain, was an interesting five months."

Jonathan grinned as he watched the first mate take his first steps in months off of _the Sacred Heart _and onto the docks. He threw his arms in the air and stretched, clearly exhilarated. Percival had been right, of course. Upon making the announcement to the rest of the crew that they were to be making port, it had only been a weeks journey. And within that same week, well...Jonathan had learned quite a bit.

He was by no means a professional swordsman, but he was undeniably getting better. Each session with Captain Percival, which had quickly become his favorite time of the day, had been interesting to the core. Jonathan was able to do all the basic formations now and more some, and while he still wasn't ready to fight in the style that both his mentor and the first mate had performed for them, he was on his way. (Though the Captain still hadn't given him a real sword to use...)

But besides from the obvious thrill that came from learning to sword fight, even though combat had never been his forte, what he really loved about his lessons was his alone time with Percival. The older man was strict in his teachings; firm. But he guided him through it all while still, despite his exterior above the ship, remaining calm. The way he explained things made it impossible to question his ability; his knowledge. And sometimes, between a step taken right or a strike that hit it's target (always an empty barrel) Percival would allow his tone of voice to go back to the way it had been during those first two weeks on board; when John was still sick and healing in his cabin.

Still, he wished that the older man would allow this side of himself to show more on the main deck. Granted, he had never once yelled at him the way he had the first time, but "Newbie," was a much more prominent name for him now rather than Jonathan or even JD. And the only reason Percival had yet to rant at him again was because, when they were among the other crewmen, he just avoided JD as much as possible so that his rantings fell on somebody else. This was better than constantly being the victim of his tongue lashings, sure, but he couldn't help but wish that the Captain would talk to him with the others around; the way he did so freely with Ben.

But even then, JD couldn't bring himself to feel envious of the first mate. The boy didn't admire him in the way in which he admired Percival, but his spirit and optimism rang so strongly in whatever space or room he occupied. It was near impossible not to like the man, to admire him for his loyalty and cheer. He was Percival's opposite, yet the two coincided with one another so well.

Jonathan couldn't help but wonder what they had been through before turning to piracy.

It had been obvious to JD that the two of them had known each other before whatever happened had happened; it had been obvious since the day Benjamin had showed him all of his paintings. He had known the Captain before piracy; knew what the Captain had _done_ before piracy; a question he had still not found the courage to ask Percival about himself.

He had asked Christopher and some of the other crewmen, but none of them knew either.

Whatever the reason, he could not deny how close he felt to the Captain and the rest of the crew. (Except for the Shilling Guy, who had not ceased to randomly pick on him or concoct some crazy idea in his brain that _whatever_ was said to him was, somehow, a dig at him being a pirate) But all of that aside, he could not help but consider the crew his new family. Turk, his brother. Ben, his uncle. Percival, his fath -

JD stopped, shaking his head before allowing himself to finish that train of thought. He couldn't let himself think on it any further; couldn't let himself get closer to these people than he already had. After all, they were at port to, as Ben had phrased it, "Show the kid a good time," but they were _really_ at port to get the provisions they would need for his journey back home. His journey back home to be reunited with his _real_ family...

A sudden whistle broke through his thinking as the Captain stood tall on one of the railings, the crewmen gathering around him in an excited heap. All of their eyes, except for Percival's, were darting from the older man to Benjamin, clearly eager to follow the first mates go-ahead and enjoy the ground they had not stepped foot on in months; to take part of the few pleasantries land still had to offer them.

"Listen here, peons, and listen well! We are going to spend _one week_ here, you hear me? Just one week. That'll be enough time for Benji over there to show our Newbie what it is whatever the hell he wants to show him so damn badly. It will _also_ be enough time for me to gather the provisions we'll be needing for the trip back to the kid's, 'home sweet home,' so enjoy your week of downing booze and whoring yourselves out to the wenches, because we're meeting at this very same dock at sunrise when said week is over and done with. And guess what, ladies? If you don't show up, then you don't sail out. Are we clear?"

They all nodded eagerly, a chorus of, "Ayes!" erupting from their throats.

"Then off with ya! You heard me! Go, go, go!"

JD watched as the crewmen scampered down the dock, rushing out to the various little bars and huts that lay skewed about the dimly lit - yet oddly appealing - town.

Ben was still standing on the dock and looking out at the crowds of people before him, smiling broadly. Jonathan approached him, excited to be shown things he had never seen before, though admittedly a little nervous about it too... Before he could speak up, however, the Captain was standing on his other side, staring out at the town with Ben. JD couldn't help but shrink in on himself, a sudden flush rising to his cheeks. He, already tiny for his age, was standing in the middle of two very tall individuals.

"Been a long time since we've hit land, eh Captain?"

"Five months isn't that long."

"Long enough for me to be excited about making port. So, JD," the first mate started, turning his attention to the small boy beside him. "Whaddya' wanna do first?"

"I...what?"

"This is for you, buddy! We're going to show you a bunch of stuff you've never experienced before."

"And by, 'We,' he means, 'He.'"

Both of the brunets turned to look at Percival, clearly disappointed. "You're not coming?" JD asked softly, hoping the question didn't come out sounding too timid.

"I have some errands to run. Did the whole getting provisions thing slip your mind completely?"

"Oh, c'mon, Captain!" Ben cut in then. "We can do that later! It won't take you a whole week to prepare, and you know it. We just got here too, so the least you can do is - "

"Keep an eye on the kid while you're showing him whatever it is you think he hasn't seen. I'm gonna get a head start on those errands."

Jonathan tried not to look so down as Percival turned away from them, heading off into a dimmer part of the village.

"Huh, that's weird..."

JD looked up at Ben, who was also watching the departure of their Captain. "What's weird?"

"There's nothing over in that part of town that we'd need in terms of provisions. The only places that are really over there are - " Ben stopped then, a small, knowing grin slowly but surely spreading along his features. He looked down at JD and smiled, his earlier disappointment over the Captain heading off by himself suddenly gone. "Don't worry about it, alright? Perry will come and join us eventually. By the way...how are your sword lessons going?"

JD's eyebrows came together in confusion, finding the transition in conversation odd. "Um...good! Yeah, they're good. I know all the basic moves now, and I hit seven out of ten of my targets yesterday. He won't let me use a real sword yet, but it's still a lot of fun."

Benjamin smiled, and while Jonathan still couldn't help but feel a little puzzled, he knew that if Ben said not to worry, then he didn't have to worry. "Sounds good, kid," he finally answered. "Now, c'mon...let's go have some fun."

--

Jonathan had followed Ben in a blur, the lights and noises of the town both thrilling and nerve racking. The first mate had told him earlier that the port in which they'd be sailing to was a pirates home away from home, and JD could most definitely see why.

Bars were everywhere, as well as places to eat whatever kind of grub you were craving. Shops and stands were set up every which way you looked; some selling supplies needed for sailing, while others were selling trinkets. Whether or not said items were made by their seller or stolen, JD didn't know, but it was a pirates town, for sure, so he could only assume it was the latter.

Suddenly, Jonathan found his face smooshed against Ben's back. The first mate had come to an abrupt halt, and JD had been day dreaming about all the various things he'd been witnessing during their walk. A sudden chill ran down his spine, remembering the last time he let his mind wander while he was supposed to be following somebody...

But Ben was quick to ease the fears of the used-to-be-cabin-boy, whether he realized it or not. The young lad looked up at the tall brunet, whose arms were stretched out as a way of beholding what lay before him. "This, JD, is the best drinking spot in the entire town!"

Jonathan looked around him. The waitresses - very _pretty_ waitresses - were serving both drinks and food; big helpings of them, too. A small band was set up in the corner, playing music so lively that even someone born with two left feet would feel passionate enough to dance. The place was well lit and smelled strongly of what was being served, making anyone who got even close to the shops entrance salivate.

"You hungry, kid?"

JD nodded eagerly, suddenly very happy that Ben had come up with the idea of making port. It was a lot of excitement and a lot of people; something he wasn't particularly used to, but he was more than willing to give it a shot.

The two sat down at the table closest to the back. It wasn't that they didn't enjoy the band, and it definitely wasn't because either of them was anti-social, but it was better to sit in a spot where they could actually hear themselves think. Still, it was not an enormous place, and the table they sat at was not secluded. But at least there they could talk to one another without having to scream.

Before JD could ask whether or not the Captain would know where to look for them if he decided to come join their fun, a waitress came over to them promptly, a smile on her face as she took sight of JD. "Well aren't you a cutie! Now what's a young sailor like you doing in a crazy place like this?"

Jonathan instantly flushed. The girl was definitely pretty. Young too, but definitely not a kid. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a messy heap, though she somehow gave the look a certain charm. Her bangs, JD noted with amusement, kept falling in front of her face, making her have to blow them out of the way more than once. Her blue eyes seemed tired from work, frazzled even, but she smiled at him genuinely.

"I, um...I'm the new...I don't know what I am exactly, but I guess for now, I'm the new crew member on _the Sacred Heart."_

The woman's eyes popped, clearly not having expected that answer. "But you're just a lad! Far too young to be sailing under Captain Percival's flag, anyway. How do you put up with his attitude?"

Jonathan squirmed where he sat. Did _everyone_ look at his Captain that way?

"Hey now, don't put the kid on the spot," Ben intervened then, grin still in place.

"Oh, you know I don't have a problem with you, Benjamin," the waitress responded with a smile. "Now what can I get you fellas to drink?"

The first mate turned to Jonathan then, his grin widening in amusement. "Have you ever had a drink, JD?"

Jonathan's eyes went wide. Drink? Him? He'd watched the way his mom reacted to the stuff too many times to count. He didn't like it, not one bit. But the people around him weren't acting like his mom at all, nor was it the same kind of stuff his mom drank either. Her stuff was strong; the stench of it had always filled up the house. This stuff had a definite smell too, but it wasn't necessarily _bad._ "I, um...no," he replied awkwardly.

"Well then two beers it is!" Ben answered cheerily.

The waitress gave another smile as she trotted off towards the bar.

JD looked back at Ben, clearly curious as to what just took place. "So I guess if you two know each other, then you've been here before?"

"Yup! This is our favorite place to grab some food. If the Captain comes looking for us, he'll know where to stop by first."

Jonathan nodded, happy that his earlier question had been answered. "Um, if it's alright to ask...why does that waitress hate the Captain?"

"Elliot, you mean? Nah, I wouldn't say she _hates_ him. She knows that he doesn't kill, so for that I think she respects him to a certain level, but they're definitely not what one would describe as friends, you know? She's threatened to spit in his beer on more than one occasion, though she never actually does. But Perry loves to pick on her; calling her neurotic and whatever else he can think of, so she gets mad. He always makes it up to her though; leaves her a much better tip than most pirates would, that's for sure."

"Hey! Benjamin! Jonathan!"

JD immediately looked over to the entrance of the bar, where Christopher stood waving. Jonathan's smile was instantaneous as Turk made his way over to them both. "Mind if I take a seat?"

"Course not!" Ben answered quickly. "Having fun so far, then?"

"Definitely! You know there's a stand a little ways over that sells surgical tools? I have no idea what I'd use 'em for, but I think I might buy a set of them anyway. Can't touch the Captain's or he'll freak out, so I might as well get my own."

"What would you use to practice them on?" JD asked curiously.

Christopher shrugged. "Maybe I'll buy some fruit before the week's over. Bring them on board and see what's inside."

"But if you want to see what's inside, why don't you just bite it?"

Ben tried not to laugh at the look on Turks face as he contemplated JD's question, clearly not wishing to see the logical side of the younger boy's query. "Because," he finally answered, "I want to slice em'."

It was at that very moment that Elliot came bounding towards their table, beers in hand. Another waitress came walking beside her, a look of curiosity on her face. When she spotted JD, she beamed at him, making the young boy flush all over again. "Well aren't you a cutie! You were right, Elliot - way too young to be in this crazy place."

"Not just that, but having to sail with Captain Percival, no less!"

"Oh c'mon now," the curly haired woman responded, "He's not that bad and you know it."

"Oh, Christopher!" Elliot piped, just having noticed his arrival. "Nice to see you again, but can you stop staring at Carla's chest long enough to agree with me?"

Turk startled as both Ben and JD held back a snicker. Elliot was grinning at him mischievously, while the other waitress - now known as Carla - had placed her hands on her hips, a small scowl taking over her features. "Don't think I'll hesitate to knock around that shiny head of yours, Christopher."

The waitress walked away promptly, her long, black hair flowing behind her. Turk watched her go, looking both disappointed and pleased. "Mmm...you gotta love a strong woman," he finally commented.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Anyway, did you want a beer too?"

"Huh? Oh yeah, Elliot, thanks for that."

"No problem," the blonde smiled, before turning to grab another drink.

JD was staring at his mug, wondering how it was they got the top part to get so foamy, when he was awakened from his day dream by a hand waving in front of his face. "Jonathan, _helloooo?_ Anybody in there?"

"Oh, um...sorry, Ben. I guess I sort of drifted off again."

"You've been doing that more often, haven't you? It's alright kid, no worries. It's actually pretty funny."

"Oh, well...alright then. Anyway, there was something you wanted to tell me?"

"I was just gonna warn you about that drink, buddy. Take it easy; don't chug. It's your first one and it's a decent sized helping, so don't rush it. You're pretty small too, and that stuff can have a bigger effect on you than it would on me or the other crewmen. A faster effect even, so don't down it, okay?"

JD nodded, appreciative of the advice. "Aye, aye sir."

Ben stuck out his tongue at the, "Sir" before taking a swig of his beer. He didn't notice JD mirror his action, though he had to laugh along with Turk at the foam mustache it left behind on the kid's upper lip.

--

With Jonathan's first mug emptied and gone, he couldn't help but smile. His insides felt warm and his head a little fuzzy, but he had taken it slow like Benjamin had suggested. Of course, by this point, the first mate was on his fifth, while Christopher was on his third.

"Well hello, handsome."

JD jumped as a sly voice caught his attention. A woman in a very, _very _revealing dress was now leaning over Benjamin, her arms circling his waist from the back of his chair. "Haven't seen you around here in a while, have I?" she purred. "You look just about ready to have a little fun, wouldn't ya' say? _I_ say we get on out of here and enjoy ourselves. Whaddya' think, sailor?"

Ben instantly turned to Jonathan, wiggling his eyebrows up and down mischievously. "Gotta love the wenches! Wait, I mean...JD, are you okay to stay here with Christopher for a while?"

"Huh? Oh yeah, that's alright. That's alright, isn't it Turk?"

The two turned to the bald pirate, who half saluted him as he threw back another drink.

"Right, well...yeah. You have, um...fun?"

Ben smirked as he stood from his chair, wobbling only for a moment before throwing his arm around the woman with the too tight corset. "You bet!"

JD couldn't help but feel a little awkward as he watched them go, but at least the first mate had left him in good hands. Before he could turn to Christopher, however, Elliot had come back over with another beer. "Um...I was gonna give this to Turk, but it looks like he's already had - "

"Nope, I'm good for more! Bring another for my friend though, 'kay?"

"Am I allowed to have another one?" JD asked hesitantly.

"We're at port!" Turk responded joyously. "Of _course_ you're allowed to have another one. C'mon, Elliot; one for _the Sacred Hearts _newest, um...sort of kind of crew member."

The blonde quirked an eyebrow in question, but turned to get the kid another beer all the same. JD shrugged. What harm could one more do?

--

Percival was hungry.

With his first "errand" out of the way, he knew it was about time he joined the others at their go-to-bar. He could use a tall mug of rum and a bowl of Carla's special potato soup.

Upon arriving at said destination, he instantly looked towards the back, ignoring the nine wenches that were trying desperately to call him over. He vaguely noted that there were usually ten of them in this particular establishment, but he threw the thought aside as he continued to search for his first mate and the used-to-be-cabin-boy.

And then he spotted their table.

"Ah, hell..."

Ben was no where to be seen, while baldy's head was currently nestled in his folded arms, the table his newest pillow. Jonathan, however, was not asleep. He was sitting in his chair, a dreamy smile plastered on his face; his head titled to the side. And, of course, the table before him was littered with empty mugs of beer. Fantastic.

Percival approached him at once, still not sure whether or not he was feeling angry or amused.

He stood over him for a moment or two, wondering whether or not the kid was ever going to notice him. But before he could say anything to grab his attention, Jonathan spoke; voice slurred but contemplative: "That's why you should never trust a parrot..."

Well that was new.

The Captain whistled sharply, causing JD to snap out of whatever day dream he had found himself in and look around wildly. It took him a moment, but when he spotted the older man staring down at him, an eyebrow raised in question, a broad smile broke out onto his already flushed face. "HI, CAPTAIN!"

"I'm standing right here, Newbie. You don't have to yell."

For whatever reason, this comment caused JD to burst into a fit of giggles. "You're silly."

"Jonathan," Percival started, choosing to ignore the boy's last comment, "How much of those empty mugs were yours?"

The brunet tilted his head as he looked at the table curiously. "Um..." JD held out his fingers, counting each one individually until there was no more to be counted. "That many!"

"JD, there is no _way _you drank ten of those. Now c'mon kid, think. How - many - beers - did - you - have?"

"Um...those are Turks."

Percival pinched the bridge of his nose, doing his best to swallow his frustration. Damn it. He should've gone with the kid when he first went gallivanting off with Ben. Which, by the way... "Where did Ben go?"

"He's having fun with a _laaaaaaady_."

Percival turned back over to the flaunting wenches, suddenly realizing why one of them was missing. "Okay, back to my first question, then: How many of those did you drink?"

"This!" JD held up his hand, wiggling three fingers as he let another set of giggles escape him.

"That seems about right. Now c'mon, kid. We're going back to the ship."

"Aw, but whyyyy?"

"Because you're going to need to sleep this off, and I'd rather you crash in my cabin then in some sleazy inn. Now come."

Jonathan tried to obey him, he did, but the moment he stood up from his chair, he was back down again. Only this time, he was sitting on the floor. "I FELL!" he shouted. Not out of pain, but out of what appeared to be something like shocked observation.

Percival growled in annoyance. He stopped, however, when the boy's eyes suddenly filled with tears. "It was jus' an accident! Don't rant again, 'kay?"

Shit, the last thing he wanted to do was make the kid cry. Shit, shit, shit! The Captain walked closer to him then, bending down to his level and feeling very grateful that the bar was way too hectic and crazy for anybody to pay them mind. "It's okay, Jonathan. I'm not mad. Please don't cry, alright? You just fell because of the beer; it messes with your system. Your's especially, since I'm assuming this is your first time drinking, not to mention your body isn't old enough to handle as much as me or even baldy over there, believe it or not, so c'mon. I'm gonna help you."

Percival watched as JD's unshed tears stayed hidden, his drunken optimism slowly returning. "Mmm...okay. Where we goin' 'gain?"

"To the ship. Now...can you hold onto my back?" Percival turned around, trying his best to subtly show the boy what it was he was supposed to do. "Just hold on to my neck and swing your legs around my waist. Can you do that?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"Okay, Newbie, climb on board there."

This time, though with a bit of difficulty, JD obeyed promptly; drunkenly following the older man's instructions as he climbed onto his back.

Percival stood up with ease, noting that the kid was still feeling way too light for his liking. At least he knew the boy was eating right though. After all, some kids just had a quicker metabolism.

As the Captain passed the band while leaving the bar, JD's legs, which had been fastened around Percival's waist, now let themselves go to dangle cheerfully, the rest of his body bouncing a little to the music. "_Caaaaaptaaaaain!_ Can I get down now? I wanna dance!"

"You can't even stand, kid. I somehow doubt you'll be able to dance."

"_Pleeeeease?_"

"Not tonight."

Percival knew there'd be no argument when the young boy wrapped his legs back around his waist. "'Kay."

"Good lad."

The rest of the walk was rather silent, besides the obvious background noise that was the craziness of their favorite port. Still, despite the fact that he hadn't been able to get his rum and his potato soup, Percival felt...alright. They had a week there, and the older man knew he'd be back to that bar eventually, especially if Jonathan awoke remembering his earlier desire to dance. (And to kill whoever decided it was fine to give the kid three beers. Probably Blondie, damn it...) _And_ he had gotten the first thing he wanted to get done, though it looked like the actual giving would have to wait until tomorrow...

But besides all of that, the real reason Percival was actually feeling what he dared to call peaceful, was because of how_...right_ it felt carrying Jonathan like he was. The boy was snuggled into his back, his arms twined around his shoulders trustingly. He seemed made to be there; made to go with him.

"'Is nice..."

Percival inwardly startled at the young boy's words, having thought he'd already fallen asleep. "Jonathan...?"

"'Is nice. Is wha' all the fathers would do wit' 'tare sons. I'd watch 'em from my house. They'd pick up 'tare son and they'd...they'd carry 'em. Like this. 'Is really...really nice..."

Percival swallowed, a swarm of emotions caught in an unexpected lump in his throat. Did Jonathan just...did Jonathan just imply that he was...? And if he did...did that make him happy? Or upset? Did it coincide with the fear he had refused to talk about further, even with Ben? Or did it mesh with his desire to not have the kid leave the ship? To stay with him, and maybe just...maybe...

The Captain blinked suddenly, not having realized they were already at _the Sacred Heart._ He climbed on board the vessel at once, removing his hand from one of JD's legs to open the door to his cabin. Once inside, the older man laid him gently down on the bed.

The look of absolute peace that was splayed out onto Jonathan's face was damn well near heart warming. He was not an emotional man, but God save him...he just couldn't help but smile; even if it was slight, even if it went unnoticed. It was big for him; big for anyone who had ever known him. Big for anyone who had known him before piracy; what it would mean for the Captain to be able to once again smile over the situation at hand; to do things like tuck the kid into bed.

"Cap'n?"

"John?"

"'Is nice here. I like it...like it a lot."

Percival grinned. "You're not gonna like it in the morning; not when you wake up with that headache you're going to have."

The young brunet let out another, sleepy giggle. "Silly Cap'n."

The older man gave out a low chuckle. "Sleep now, kid. We'll take care of that when it happens."

"Mmm...'kay, then. Night, Captain."

"Night, Jonathan."

**_A/N:_**_ I know some of you probably think I've gone mad, but just to clarify, there were no laws against underage drinking in the 1700s - 1800s. (I haven't come up with an exact year yet, but I imagine this story to take place around that time period) Anyway, if you were a sailor/pirate and walked into a bar for a drink, you were going to get a drink. (Well, you still had to pay, but you know. lol) Anyway, hope that helps if there were any questions about that. Well, that about sums it up for me. Until next time!_


	9. Chapter IX

**_A/N: _**_Alright, so I'm still working hard and hoping I won't fall behind here, but I just wanted to take a moment to say how much I appreciated all of your support last time. I always sincerely appreciate your reviews, but the added fact that you guys were so understanding about my crazy schedule really lifted up my spirits, so thank you all so much for that. Anyway, that about sums it up for me. Hope you enjoy the chapter!_

_**Important Note:** I have no idea why it keeps doing this, but the site did the same thing it did last time: It took out all quotations, apostrophes, some spaces, and more. I went through it, and I think I caught everything, but if you see something I missed, feel free to let me know.  
_

**_Disclaimer: _**_I own a very large nothing._

**Chapter IX:**

_"We forgot where we were and we lost track of time, and we sang to the wind as we danced through the night."_

_-Into the Night, by Santana-_

"Ugh..."

It was early in the morning, and as always, Percival was the first one out of bed. Well, perhaps the others were up before him today. He would have no way of knowing, considering they were all sleeping in whatever inn they had decided on. He, however, had remained in his cabin that night, along side of the hang over stricken brunet.

He gave a low chuckle at the groan emitting from Jonathan's awaking form. He felt for the kid, he did, but there was a certain amount of humor in seeing an eleven year old get a hangover.

"My head..."

Percival stood from his working desk, walking over to the boy with the medicine he had prepared for him the night before; right after Jonathan had fallen asleep. "Told you it would hurt, Newbie. Now here, drink this."

Jonathan reached for it, still in a haze, but obeyed the Captain all the same. He swallowed it down and sighed, clearly grateful for the older man's assistance. Still, Percival could tell he was confused.

"Why're we in your cabin?" JD asked weakly.

"You don't remember?"

Jonathan's eyebrows came together in obvious concentration, and Percival had to hold back a grin at how serious the young boy looked in his contemplating. "We made port, and then Ben took me to a bar he said you've visited before. There was music and - oh. And beer..." Percival watched as JD gave him a quick, nervous glance, his cheeks turning pink in the process. "I had some beer, but only one mug. But then, um...somebody came to, um...to have fun with Ben, so it was just me and Christopher for a while. That really pretty waitress came back over with a beer for him, but then - "

"Hold that thought. Pretty waitress? Carla, you mean?"

"Oh yeah, she was really pretty too. But this one had blonde hair."

Percival scowled. He _knew_ it was that princesses' fault. "Elliot, right?"

"Yeah! Elliot! She was really - "

"Annoying?"

JD flushed again, twisting the blanket that covered him nervously. "I was going to say nice, but...but I don't really remember much after that. She came over with another beer for Turk. I got one too, and then that's...that's it."

"Alright, kid, here's the deal: There's no law against it - probably never will be - but the truth is that a kid your age shouldn't be drinking that stuff. Your system can't handle it the way an adults could, and to be perfectly honest, there are a fair share of adults that can hardly handle it either. Or maybe some can, but they just don't know when to stop... Point is this: You are not to drink that stuff again or anything remotely like it. Not until you've aged some, you hear me? No more."

Percival watched as JD nodded sheepishly, though truth be told, he didn't look at all upset by this new rule set down for him. After having a part of last night's events washed from his memory, not to mention waking up with a giant head ache, well...he probably wasn't all too anxious to do it over again. "Aye, Captain," he answered after a moment.

"Good lad. Now...do you think you could stomach some food?"

"I think so..."

"Good. Because, thanks to your little stunt last night, I wasn't able to enjoy any of Carla's cooking. However, it's early enough where she'll still be serving breakfast, so let's go; I'm craving steak and eggs."

--

JD followed Percival over to the table where he had sat with Benjamin the night before. The place wasn't nearly as busy in the morning as it was at night, but he understood the Captain's need for privacy.

Carla spotted them almost immediately, walking up to the two with a warm smile. "Captain Percival, it's been a while. Five months or so now?"

JD tried to contain the look of surprise that passed over his face when the red headed man actually smiled back. "Sounds about right. How've you been?"

"Alright, I suppose. Oh! Did you know? Laverne is making me head waitress; says she's sick of being too busy to listen to all the good gossip that keeps going on around here."

Percival rolled his eyes, but the air of playfulness showed through as he grinned up at the curly haired woman before him. "I'm happy for you."

"Thanks," she smiled back. She turned to JD then, who tried to look like he hadn't been openly staring at them both. "And how're you this morning, sweetie? I heard you had a little one too many last night?"

"You heard right," the Captain cut in sharply. "Where in the hell is Elliot, by the way? I would ra-_heely _like to speak with her..."

"Now, now, Captain. She was only doing her job. That being said, may I ask what it is you two would like to order?" Carla raised her eyebrows, as if defying them to question her on the subject further. Percival just grunted as he folded his arms across his chest, clearly not in the mood to keep up such ridiculousness. "Steak and eggs, and don't let anyone else touch them other than you."

Carla smiled, and both Jonathan and the waitress knew: what may have sounded harsh to another was actually a compliment from the older man.

"And you, sweetie?"

JD turned to Percival nervously, not quite sure what it was he could and could not order. Would money be an issue here? "I, um..."

"Relax kid," the Captain said before turning back to Carla. "He'll have the same."

The waitress winked at JD, causing him to flush, as she turned to start up on their food. It wasn't until she was gone did Percival turn back to the brunet. "So besides getting drunk off your ass, are you enjoying port so far?"

JD rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed by the drunk-related comment, but still insanely happy that the older man was even asking whether or not he was having a good time. "Yeah, it's been fantastic. This town is crazy, but in a good way; the way that makes you want to join in. Like the band they had last night; their music was amazing! I - Oh, um...sorry."

Percival quirked an eyebrow, confused by the sudden change in the kid's tone. "Sorry? What in the hell are you sorry about?"

"I, um...I don't remember getting on or anything, but I just remembered me asking you to put me down so I could dance last night. I...I never really said this in the cabin. Not because I didn't want to, I just...I wasn't thinking clearly. I was still tired and really confused, and I was trying to remember, which I think just made it worse, but...thank you for helping me last night. For, um...for carrying me out of here like that. I know you don't like showing that, well...that side of you, I suppose you would say, but I really appreciate that you did."

The moment of silence that followed seemed to stretch on forever. Jonathan wanted more than anything to sink within the confines of his chair. Percival was staring at him so intently. It wasn't angry or upset or any of the things that one would most likely expect, it was just...it was like he was putting something together. Finally, the older man spoke. "Don't worry about it, kid. ...So that's all you remember, I'm guessing?"

"Huh? Yeah, um...that's it. Is there something else that I should - ?"

"No."

"Oh...okay then."

The awkwardness between them only lasted for a moment or so; the relief in their tension easing considerably as a certain first mate walked joyously through the entrance of the eating establishment. "'Morning, gentlemen!" he shouted as he joined them at their table. "How was last night?"

This question, of course, had been directed towards JD, but the Captain was the first to speak. "Nice going, Benji. Leaving the kid by himself for some crazy wench?"

"What? I would never do that! I mean, yeah...the wench part I did - and proudly! - but I would never leave the kid by himself in a place that was this new to 'im, even if it meant no happy time."

"Then why did I find him drunk and day dreaming about parrots?"

"I was day dreaming about parrots again?"

Both men looked at him, eyebrows raised at the, "again" part of the kid's last question. Jonathan sunk a little lower into his seat, the familiar flush to his cheeks turning pinker. "Sorry..."

"Anyway," Ben started up, turning his attention back towards Percival. "When I left, Christopher was with him."

"Yeah? Well when I found the kid, that worthless peon was passed out drunk on the table."

"Oops."

"'Oops,' is right..."

Benjamin turned back to the small brunet sheepishly. "Sorry about that, JD."

"It's okay. I still had a really good time."

"Well it's not over yet, kid. We're here for a week, remember? Now tell - me what else did you want to do?"

"Well...I sort of wanted to try dancing, but I'm not really sure anymore. I've never given it a go, so I might be really bad at it."

"Don't not do something because you might be bad at it, buddy! How will you ever know? Besides, life's too short not to live while you can."

JD nodded, taking in the first mate's words with serious consideration. "That's true. Maybe tonight, I'll try it."

"There's the spirit! Oh, and Captain?"

"What?"

"I'm gonna need to have some of whatever it is you ordered for breakfast."

"What? Why?"

"Because that wench sort of stole my money..."

--

After breakfast, much to Jonathan's delight, both Ben _and_ Percival decided on showing the boy around town. The Captain, of course, acted as if he didn't really want to go. "I'm just here to make sure the kid doesn't end up alone again," he'd stated. But even if there was some truth to that, they both knew that Percival wouldn't have volunteered to join them if he didn't at all desire to.

So the three of them walked through the town, Ben pointing out various things to JD when he missed them through the commotion, and Percival whistling sharply when Jonathan would begin to stray from the two of them. Never on purpose, of course, but it was easy to get distracted in such a place like the town they were currently occupying.

Within thirty minutes of their private tour, a familiar face caught Jonathan's attention. He waved cheerfully at his friend, causing the other two pirates to turn their attention towards said individual as well.

"Turk!" JD shouted happily, waving him over some more.

The bald man made his way towards them at once. He'd been grinning upon seeing JD, but when he saw Percival was there as well, a frown instantly took over.

"Hey, Baldy! Next time someone leaves you with the kid - _any_ kid, for that matter - maybe you wanna try, oh gee, I don't know, _not_ passing out drunk on the table while said kid goes about getting wasted?"

JD swallowed, feeling guilty for having summoned his friend over. He hadn't thought of the possibility of Turk getting lectured.

"It was an accident, okay?" the pirate retaliated. He turned to JD then, his face much more genuine when apologizing to the young brunet directly. "Sorry about that, buddy."

"It's okay, don't worry. I still had fun."

The Captain let out a small grunt of annoyance, clearly wishing to lecture the bald pirate further. Still, he refrained, choosing instead to pick out and question the object that said individual was currently holding in his hands. "What's with the necklace, Elizabeth? Preparing yourself to look pretty for whenever that certain, special someone comes galloping up on their glittering white horse?"

Christopher scowled. "No. It's a present, if you really need to know."

"Where did you get it?"

The three then turned to Jonathan, surprised that he would be interested in jewelry, of all things.

Turk turned around to where he had just come from, pointing towards a small shop just a little ways off. "There's a trinket shop over there. They have bracelets and necklaces and rings; even a few good luck charms."

Jonathan looked towards the Captain, who was looking down at him curiously in turn. "Can we go?"

"Kid, you know I'm gonna ask - why in God's name are you interested in jewelry? Somehow, I don't think the value, even if there is any, is important to you."

JD suddenly found himself feeling awkward, not entirely sure how the Captain would react upon hearing his reasoning. "Well...I kind of wanted to get something for my mother and brother. So when I...when you, um, when you bring me back to them, I can have something to give them; something from a place they've never been to; from a place they'll probably never be able to go to either. I don't know. I just thought it would be kind of nice..."

Percival swallowed, disgusted at the sudden swell of envy he felt towards the boy's mother and brother. God, was he crazy? How selfish could he possibly be? "Yeah, kid, we can go," he finally answered.

Jonathan was visibly excited, and as he said his goodbye to Turk, he did not witness the knowing look that Benjamin was giving their Captain.

--

Inside the jewelry shop was something else.

Most places, except for maybe a few of the eating establishments, were not lit up to appear so_...colorful._ The jewelry being sold was in vibrant glass containers, while others were hanging from the ceiling like ornaments. There were more lanterns hanging around the room than needed, but their light made the beads glisten in a way that was borderline magical. And, in the far off corner of the room, a small, pastel painted cage hung from the ceiling, the little birds inside singing away as two of the three pirates stood at the entrance, mouth slightly agape.

Percival just scowled. The place wasn't suspicious or anything. Far from it, in fact. It just seemed too damn_...cheery_.

"Why hello, gentlemen! How can I help you today?"

From the back of the shop came a woman in a brightly colored dress. Her long, blonde hair curled delicately down to her back, her blue eyes sparkling at them as she smiled in welcome.

Ben nudged his Captain, causing him to scowl even further. "Nice, right?" he whispered playfully.

"Annoyingly so."

"Well you're quite young to be here, aren't you?"

The two older pirates looked down at Jonathan, who was now staring, flushed and a little awkward, at the woman who was currently bent down to his level. "I - yeah..."

"Well what's your name, sailor?"

"Jonathan, Miss. Jonathan Michael Dorian."

"Well, Johnny, it's good to meet you!"

The two on-looking pirates tried not to snicker as the young brunet immediately winced at the nickname. Unfortunately, the twitch went unnoticed by the shop keeper. "So what can I help you with today?"

"I want to get something for my mother and brother. I'm sure my mom would like a necklace, but I know Daniel wouldn't. Do you have some good luck charms, maybe?"

"Sure do!"

The woman skipped over to a small jar in the corner, promptly bringing it back to the used-to-be-cabin-boy. "Here you are, Johnny! Those are all the good luck charms I own. Feel free to look through them all, but don't forget to pay, alright? I know you pirates can be rather sneaky."

"We're not here to steal anything," Percival cut in sharply. "We do that at sea; not at a port where pirates are actually welcomed."

"Aye, aye Captain!" she responded brightly.

The older man pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes against the merriment of it all. "Newbie, if you could do us all a favor and move this whole present shopping thing along, I would ra-_heely _appreciate it."

JD nodded quickly. He didn't dislike the lady or anything, but he wasn't particularly eager to stay around and be called "Johnny" again.

Still, his eyes remained focused on the little charms before him. He wasn't even sure if his brother believed in things such as luck, but he knew he'd like a souvenir either way.

Finally, he settled on a charm that had different shades of blue string tied together in a braid like fashion, dangling from a ruby colored stone. Most likely glass of some kind, but oh well.

Doing his best to move it along as the Captain had instructed, JD went around the shop, peering at all the various necklaces. His mom was pickier than his brother. Sure, she'd appreciate anything from her son, but she had her likes and dislikes, and made them known to both of her boys.

Finally finding a necklace consisting of all the colors he knew his mother was fond of, he brought them both to the small counter where the woman awaited him, still smiling.

"Will that be all then, Johnny?"

The brunet nodded, until a sudden realization hit him square in the face: He had no money! "I, um...never mind, Miss. I'm sorry, and I really appreciate you helping me, but I forgot that I don't have any - "

JD jumped as a small pouch was suddenly placed beside his soon-to-be-purchase on the counter. "Don't worry, buddy, I got it."

"But I thought that woman stole your money!"

"Well, she stole _some_ of it."

"Then why did you share the Captain's breakfast this morning?"

"Oh that? That was just for fun."

Jonathan tried not to grin as the growl emitting from the Captain made it's way over to them both, standing by the counter and doing their best not to burst out laughing. "Anyway, kid, it's no problem. I got it, alright?"

"You sure?"

"Definitely!"

The first mate handed the jewelry to JD once the purchase was made, who took it gratefully, still thanking Benjamin as he did so.

"Alright, ladies - enough shopping. Let's get out of here before smiley starts whistling along with those God forsaken birds."

"Well someone's grumpy!" the lady responded to Percival's comment, looking completely unfazed as she did so.

The red headed man growled at her before storming out of the store, the two brunets close behind him.

--

Percival had led Jonathan back to the ship, the boy most likely thinking that it was solely to drop off his things. When Ben waved goodbye as he gallivanted off towards the rest of the town, his suspicions were confirmed when the kid watched him leave, clearly surprised. "He's not waiting for us?" he asked, confused.

"No. Now listen, Newbie - just because we're at port doesn't suddenly mean your sparring lessons are over, so let's go kid - grab your stick and we'll get this thing underway."

Percival didn't know why he had expected the boy to be disappointed with this news, but Jonathan was quick to retrieve his weapon, looking eager all the while. The Captain inwardly shook his head. Why had he thought he'd react any differently? JD _wanted_ to learn. He liked his lessons. The only thing he didn't like was his sad excuse for a sword, but that would change soon enough.

"So what are we working on today?" Jonathan asked with curious excitement.

"Our style. Benji's and mine."

Percival did his best not to grin as the kid's jaw dropped, clearly not having expected that response. "You...you mean it? I'm ready to start learning that? Really?"

"Yeah, kid, I think you are. But you better pay close attention and work your ass off, because if I think you're slacking, then we'll go right back to step one."

JD shook his head vigorously. "No slacking, no slacking! You have my word, Captain."

"Good. Now," Percival withdrew his sword, amazed that the kid still managed to look awe inspired each and every time. "Now," he started up again, "Instead of watching what I do with my sword, I want you to watch my feet this time, understand? Keep an eye out for my right foot especially."

"Aye, Captain."

Percival went into the stance he was accustomed to, his sword drawn and ready. Like he had gone over so many times with his first mate, he flew off of his right leg, which had been stretched out behind him, thrusting himself forward with a quick switch of his feet, rearranging the entire stance in which he had originally started out in. His sword was now pointed at whatever imaginary object he had set up for himself, the hilt held with only one hand as his free arm was out to keep balance. "Did you see what I did there, Newbie?"

JD nodded, albeit a little wide eyed. "It was hard, because it went really fast, but I think I saw. You did a sort of pivot on your heel before pushing off, right? That's what starts the pace without letting your enemy know how fast you're getting ready to go."

Percival nodded, silently praising Jonathan for his observation skills. "Okay, Newbie, it's your turn. Right foot back like that. Check your stance first, kid. Okay, good. Now on the count of three, you ready? One - two - _three!"_

Now, the Captain was very well aware that the kid, despite his build, had great potential in terms of his skill with a sword, but he was still a beginner; still new and still learning and definitely still a bit clumsy. But when he pushed off from his stance, shooting forward with a speed so unexpected, Percival actually blinked.

"Was that...was that alright?"

But the Captain was still staring at him, hoping he didn't look too shocked. Sure, the kid wasn't as fast as him; nothing to that extent. But he was already faster than some of the other crew members who had been working on the style for weeks now.

The red headed man pondered over this logically. The style he and Ben had worked on so diligently had been a style aimed for speed and maneuvering. Wasn't it possible that, because of JD's light build - the very same build that, in other circumstances, made him a little clumsy and awkward - was a benefactor here? He was small in stature and weight; he could fling himself this way and that if shown how to do so properly. It was like...it was like...

Percival was not a man who believed in superstitions, fantasies, and certainly not fate. But it was like...it was like this style - the style he and Ben had created and worked on weeks before even knowing of the kid's _existence_ - it was like this style was _made_ for him. Was that a sort of destiny? And if something like a fighting style could be labeled as "fate," was it not probable to think that just maybe, _maybe_ this whole situation was, somehow...

"Captain? I-I can try it again. I'll do it better this time."

The red headed man blinked, surprised at himself for letting his mind wander the way it had just done. And ah, hell...the kid was looking at him petrified, again. Probably thought he messed the whole thing up. "No, Jonathan, you did well just there. How about we move on to step two then?"

"I...what? Already?"

"Yeah, kid. Now put those eyes back in your sockets and pay attention. I'll show you how it's done."

--

The rest of the week flew by in no time, and before Jonathan knew it, it was their last night at port; the night before all of _the Sacred Heart_ would sail away from this town he'd already come to love, and take him back to a town he couldn't even pretend to miss.

Still, he felt accomplished with their week at port; content. He was not an expert in the fighting style that both the Captain and the first mate had come up with together, but he had sparred with Christopher and even a couple of the other crew members on their down time, wanting to practice all that Percival had taught him so far. They fed him praise and corrected him when necessary, and JD found himself loving his sword practice more than ever.

However, he still hoped that that's all it would remain: practice. Not a single part of his being wanted to be in a fight, especially if it was anything like what Percival had described to him only weeks ago.

But that wasn't the only thing he had accomplished at port.

He'd tucked away his treasures bought for both his mother and brother safely in the older man's cabin, he had explored every crook and nanny of the town whenever given the opportunity, he had eaten Carla's delicious food and made conversation with both her and Elliot, who were more than eager to converse with him about all the various tales they had heard from other pirates coming to and from the sea.

The whole experience had been fantastic, but now it was his last night there, and he had _still_ yet to do the one thing he had promised himself he would:

He had yet to get up the courage and dance.

Now JD was sitting at their usual far off table, staring at the crowded floor of dancers as the band played joyously; their lively tunes carrying through the establishment and drawing the ears of any and all who passed.

Jonathan's foot tapped to the rhythm, but still he remained at the table. He'd never danced before, and he already knew how awkward he had the potential of being. If he went up there, he'd most definitely make a fool of himself.

A well toned laughter filled the air, and JD instantly looked back towards the crowd, recognizing it's owner at once. Benjamin was amongst the dancers, twirling one of the waitresses as he did a few quick steps here and there, his face healthily flushed from the energy of it all. When his eyes met the used-to-be-cabin-boy's, he smiled even further, winking as he did so, and suddenly JD was contemplating on Benjamin's words from only a week ago: _"Don't not do something because you might be bad at it, buddy! How will you ever know? Besides, life's too short not to live while you can."_

Slowly, hesitantly, JD stood up from his place at the table. He was determined now; determined to join in on the lively festivities that was taking place before him. But who would he dance with? He'd be awkward enough with a partner, but by himself?

A tap on the shoulder had him spinning around at once, more than a little surprised to see Elliot beaming down at him. "Want to dance, sweetie?"

JD flushed. As flattered as he was, he wasn't an idiot either: Elliot, while she was a young adult, was still just that - an adult. An attractive one, at that. Why was she asking to dance with him when there were other men her own age she could take the floor with?

The blonde seemed to sense his question as she grabbed his hand and dragged him to the dance floor. "I've been getting asked for a dance all night, but only by the drunkards who could just barely stand - let alone dance - when asking me. You seemed like you wanted to dance, and so do I, not to mention you make much better company than your usual brand of pirate, so let's go!"

And suddenly Jonathan was being spun on the dance floor by the energetic waitress, trying to keep his composure as the dancers around him moved about excitedly. To his astonishment, it didn't take him long at all to find the rhythm of what was being played, even when the band switched over to another, rousing melody. And while Elliot was undeniably taller than him, they were moving so fast and so swiftly with one another that it wasn't paid any mind, and the two were dancing with the rest of them, giggling as they did so.

At one point, JD had stopped long enough to spot Christopher on another part of the dance floor. He was surprised to see that Carla was his dance partner, but couldn't help but grin when he noticed the necklace Turk had bought earlier that week draped delicately around her neck. The pirate caught his expression and grinned right back, giving him the thumbs up before taking the curly haired waitress and spinning her around yet again.

They danced so long and so freely, that when Jonathan looked out of the small window of the eating establishment, he was more than a little surprised to see that the sun had completely set. The full moon that replaced it glowed delicately against the blanket of dark blue velvet, and, for no real reason he could think of, JD laughed. It was good and pure and absolutely free, and even when Elliot handed him off to the sales woman that had helped him out earlier that week so she could go get a drink of water, he didn't care, because she was smiling too, and so was he, and compared to all the goodness that was currently enveloping the room, "Johnny," was an easily overlooked mistake.

And when Elliot came back to reclaim her dance partner and the two continued to spin wildly around with the others, that's when JD spotted him: His Captain in the corner of the room, tricorn hat in place, with a fresh mug of rum in hand. For a moment, he had his first bout of sadness all night. Why was he alone? Was he upset? But then he noticed something he had missed so dearly: A real, genuine smile splayed out on the older mans lips; content in every way shape and form. And suddenly, JD realized he had been watching him; watching him dancing and having fun and being _happy._ And JD was smiling back, holding with him a wordless conversation as the music went on and the dancers did as well, because it was a night he would never forget; a night he could live in forever.

--

Angrily, the older man pushed his way through the chaos that was the eating establishment. He had come in here hoping for some beer, eager to get away from his first mate's whining about when it was they were sailing off tomorrow. At least the balding fool had done all he had asked of him before arriving.

But he'd come in not knowing of the dancing, and had gotten so lost within the crowds of people that he found himself having to push and shove his way back towards the exit.

And that's when he spotted him.

But how..._how!?_ How had that God forsaken nothing _survived_ such a storm? All of his other men had perished (Well, besides Theodore) so how was it that, that_ brat_ had survived?

And what was he doing here? Dancing and looking so sickeningly happy? What right did he have? He was _his_ cabin boy, damn it! And if that weak nothing had the indecency to live when his men that were actually _useful_ did not, then he was sure as hell going to put him in his place. And his place was not here in this bar with these people, no. His place was on _his_ ship and as _his _cabin boy.

But still the question remained: How did he get there?

A laughter that instantly grated his nerves caught his attention. He knew that man. That good for nothing "artist." But if he was here, then that meant...

It didn't take long to spot him. His eyes laid on him sharply, intently, and through the crowds and the chaos, Robert knew he went unseen. A small, malicious smirk took over his expression as he watched the red headed man take another sip from his mug. He had what was his, and he had no problem with taking it back.

After all: He'd made the man's life a living hell once before. He had no problem with doing it again.

**_A/N: _**_Okay, so the music that really helped me out a lot with this chapter, or rather, the dancing scene, was the theme music used in, "Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest." It's the song from the soundtrack entitled, "Two Hornpipes (Tortuga)" When I was first writing the timeline to this story and realized I wanted a dancing scene, I immediately pictured that music playing for the characters, so if you're curious as to what everyone was dancing to (at least in my silly mind) feel free to look it up. :) (If you type in the name of the song on YouTube, it'll pop right up) Oh! Just one more thing before we wrap it up here: It's never actually stated, but just in case you didn't pick it up (and for that I blame myself) the sales woman who sold Jonathan the jewelry was Molly Clock. :) Well, that's about it from me. Until next time!_


	10. Chapter X

_**A/N: **__Before we begin here, let me once again say thank you all immensely for the feedback you've been giving me so far. Every word is extremely appreciated, and I mean that sincerely. Now, onto the next chapter. _

_**Disclaimer:**__ I own a very large nothing._

**Chapter X:**

"_And we are so fragile, and our cracking bones make noise. And we are just breakable, breakable, breakable girls and boys."_

_-Breakable, by Ingrid Michaelson-_

They'd barely slept that night, what with the dancing and the crew of _the Sacred Heart_ trying to enjoy every last bit of port they could before departing once again to the sea, but when they approached their vessel and smelled that crisp, salt air, the part of their souls with a natural love for the ocean seemed to intensify, and they climbed onboard without complaint.

Well, most of them, anyway.

Jonathan wasn't complaining; not at all. He'd loved port so immensely, and last night had been nothing short of wonderful. Of course, he loved _the Sacred_ _Heart_ and the crew it held within its frame as well, but it was the location where they were going next that had his stomach in knots.

"Baldy, hurry it up already!"

JD turned towards the direction to which Percival had shouted, smiling warmly as he watched Christopher finish his kiss with Carla. He sprinted back on board, while Carla stood watching, Elliot right next to her and smiling all the while.

"You better come back and see us!" she shouted at him.

"Take care of yourself, okay sweetie?" Carla half asked, half screamed after Elliot said her piece. "And take care of Turk for me too, will you? He doesn't know what he's doing."

JD saluted them both, to which they laughed and waved a warm goodbye.

--

Jonathan was still leaning against the railing, looking out as the town he'd become so familiar with continued it's transformation from multiple bars and houses to multiple tiny dots. He only turned away when he sensed a familiar presence beside him, leaning against the railing and facing the town along with him.

"God, I love that place. It was good to see it again."

"Five months you were at sea last time, right?"

"Yup. Which really isn't bad, to be honest, but still. That town is so alive, you know? So full of energy."

JD nodded, understanding Ben's words in their entirety. "You know," he started, not really quite sure what he was getting ready to say, "I think that town possesses you, or maybe…no. It doesn't possess you. I think you possess the town."

Benjamin looked at him, eyebrows raised in question, though a slow, curious grin was beginning to tug at the corner of his lips. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, I mean…the way you just described that place…it's how I would describe you, if asked. It's like…it's like you give off this energy to everything – everyone – that surrounds you. You're the kind of person that walks in a room and everything becomes alright again; everything just…glows."

For some, unfathomable reason, Jonathan was beginning to feel the onslaught of tears stinging at the back of his eyes. What was wrong with him? He had just had a wonderful night – a wonderful _week_ – and here he was, getting himself all worked up, and for what? Maybe it was because, as he spoke, he realized that for all the wonderful and encouraging things Ben had done for him, he had never really once sat down and properly thanked him. Maybe it was because that, soon enough, he'd be leaving all these amazing people he'd gone about getting so close too. Whatever the reason, an unexpected swell of emotion overtook him, and he began trying desperately to rub at the tears that leaked freely with his sleeve. "I…I don't know what's wrong with me. Benjamin, I'm sorry. And thank you for everything; for everything Ben. I don't know what's gotten hold of me; I'm sorry. I just…thank you."

A large, comforting hand was suddenly patting his shoulder, bringing him into something like that of an embrace. It wasn't a hug, but it wasn't not hug. Whatever it was though, it felt really, really good.

"It's alright, Jonathan, it really is. You're upset about going home, I know you are, but let's save the goodbyes for now, okay? Let's enjoy what we have here and not think on all of that yet. And besides…I don't think the Captain would be happy to hear you're thinking of goodbyes already, either…"

Jonathan sniffed, trying his best not to well up all over again. Oh God…the _last_ thing he needed was to start thinking about saying goodbye to the Captain.

A choking sound he hadn't meant to let escape had the arm wrapped around his shoulders tighten. "Guess that wasn't the best topic to bring up, huh?"

But the young brunet just laughed, sensing the humor beneath the first mate's last question. "It's okay. I just…thanks, Ben. Thank you for everything."

When he looked up, the first mate was smiling, his blue eyes filled with that old, familiar spark. "No problem, buddy."

--

After the ship was a good ways from port and out onto open sea, Percival handed out a task to each individual crew member to attend to for the rest of the day.

All for one, that is.

"Come, Newbie."

Percival made his way below deck, the pitter patter of JD's feet right behind him. It was time yet again for another lesson in sparring, but today's lesson held a special surprise.

Once below the upper deck, Percival gave out a sharp whistle, seeing that the kid had, in the process of following him, wandered into yet another day dream, something he was doing a lot more of lately.

JD startled out of whatever he'd been contemplating, but not before mumbling a quiet, "There'd be potatoes everywhere!"

Percival rolled his eyes, nodding over to where the kid's "weapon" lay in the corner of their usual practicing arena. "Go grab your stick, Newbie. We're going over the style in its entirety today."

"Really? We're not doing individual steps?"

"Nope. You know them all, and I've seen you spar with the others to know you've already put one and two together. So now let's go."

Percival withdrew his sword, leaving the small brunet looking up at him, half confused, half frightened by the realization that seemed to be taking over his expression. "I…what are you doing…?"

"We're sparring, Newbie. Now draw your weapon."

Percival found it hard, though he did succeed, at containing his laughter. The look on the kid's face was just so damn comical. His mouth was hanging open like a gutted fish, his blue eyes wide with both surprise and obvious fear. "What?" he practically squeaked.

The red head rolled his eyes. "You. Me. Sparring. Should I speak slower, or are you finally picking up on what it is I'm saying here? C'mon kid, stop gaping. Didn't I tell you that this sword would never be used on you? We're just sparring; nothing more."

As expected, the brunet instantly raised his hands, waving them frantically. "I didn't mean it like that! I just, it's just you, and I just didn't expect, and the sword, and it's really –"

"One, stop stuttering. And two, I know you didn't mean it like that, which brings me back to number one, though really, it'd be more like number three at this point: Stop stuttering. Get in your stance and let's get this lesson underway."

The Captain watched on, his face fixed and seemingly indifferent, as JD's hands wrapped tightly around the bottom of his stick before taking in a long, steadying breath. "Okay," the boy practically whispered. "I'm ready now."

"Good." And just like that, Percival was off; his body racing towards the kid before him.

Jonathan's next move was immediately on the defensive. Not the best way to start out, but if it kept you in the clear and away from immediate trouble, then why not? It was a good dodge for a beginner, anyway.

Percival, of course, was not at all using his full strength, but he wasn't playing little with the kid either. After all, if he _completely_ held back, what kind of lesson would that be? Of course, when his sword collided with the kid's meager weapon, he had obviously pulled back on the reigns. There'd be no sparring at all if the kid's only defense suddenly broke into two.

They carried on like that for what felt like a solid ten minutes; Percival always in attack mode, leaving Jonathan constantly on the defensive. He could see the kid getting tired, and inwardly, he cheered for him; silently coaching him to make the right move. _Think, kid, think! Use what I taught you and act on it! Put me in the defensive!_

And suddenly, the older man saw it: The look on the kid's face as they continued their back and forth; his eyebrows coming together in yes – contemplation. Thinking strategically while fighting: a very, _very_ hard thing to do, but Jonathan was doing it, and Percival could practically see the gears turning.

He'd seen it coming – the half pivot on Jonathan's right heel – but he allowed him his move, wanting to see where he'd go from there in order to reverse their current roles. The move came quite unexpectedly – a move that Percival had never even taught him.

Jonathan, after pivoting to regain both speed and balance, had ducked another thrust of the older man's sword, bringing his stick to his side, tucking it beneath his arm, and doing an honest to God _tumble_ through the older man's legs, which had been parted during his last "attack."

The Captain, of course, turned around in time to meet Jonathan's weapon with his own, but the small, proud grin was visible through their on-going lesson, and Jonathan was flushed with not only the exercise, but the silent praise he was receiving from his mentor.

But now Jonathan was no longer on the defensive. Neither was Percival, of course, but they were both steadily going at it, weapons clanking against the other as they darted this way and that.

After another five minutes, however, the Captain realized that their lesson was coming to a close, not to mention he was getting – God save him – actually _anxious_ as to the kid's reaction upon what he had prepared for him next. So with one, swift movement, the older man's sword came flying towards the outstretched stick; striking it hard and bringing the thing to mere splinters.

JD gawked at the small stub he had left in his hand, looking at the red headed man in obvious confusion. "Was that," he asked through weary breaths, "the end," intake, "of my," outtake, "lesson?" intake. "Or are you," outtake, "just," intake, "mad at me?"

"_Breathe, _Newbie. That was a huge work out for you, so _breathe._ And yeah kid, that was the end of your lesson for today, but it's not time to go back up to the main deck yet; not for you, anyway. Wait here and collect yourself. I'll be right back."

--

JD sat panting on the floor, his heart racing healthily as he awaited the return of his Captain. Today's lesson had undoubtedly been his best so far, but the way it had ended left him admittedly confused.

The stick Percival had given him during their first lesson wasn't just a branch pulled down from a tree. It was carved and smoothed and clearly made for fighting. Well, practice fighting, anyway. Why would the older man choose to smash it? Did he have more of them in storage somewhere? And why had he been instructed to stay where he was, rather than returning to the upper deck? Not that he was complaining, as he definitely appreciated the chance to get his heart beat back to its normal rhythm. It just left him a little confused...

But before his mind could come up with even more questions, the older man was back. JD was thankful that he was already red in the face. The Captain wouldn't be able to tell that he was blushing from the small, amused grin that was being aimed his way, clearly due to the fact that he was still breathing hard, while the older man remained completely unfazed.

"You alright there, kid?"

Jonathan stood up, finding at once that he was, in fact, quite alright. "Yeah, I'm okay. I can talk normally now, at least."

JD was more than just a little surprised when the red head let out a small, genuine sounding laugh. The last time he had seen him laugh – not grin or smile but honestly _laugh_ – was during his first two weeks onboard _the Sacred Heart;_ when Benjamin would make his daily visits; placing himself on the edge of JD's bed to talk about whatever it was that sprang to mind.

"You've been doing well, Newbie. Really well, and God only knows how much I ra-_heely_ hope that you'll never have to use this, but just in case…" Percival withdrew what Jonathan had assumed would be his usual sword, but when the weapon was completely unsheathed, he saw that it was not, as predicted, the older man's usual instrument.

In fact, he was quite sure he had never seen this particular sword at all.

It was _radiant_, even under the dimly lit lanterns. The hilt was delicate without being too over the top. The length of the blade looked a bit shorter than would most likely be required for Percival, and yet, it seemed perfect for –

"This is for you, Jonathan."

If it was possible for the brunet's eyes to expand any further, they did upon the older man's words, and even more so when the Captain threw the sword in an elegant flip, so that the blade landed flat on his palm, the hilt held out to be grabbed by its intended owner.

"Me?" he finally managed to ask, his voice an awe struck whisper.

The smile on the Captain's face was small but noticeable; undeniably genuine. "Yeah, kid, you. I got it made while we were at port; thought you could use something other than a stick. Anyway, it was literally made for you, so take it, Jonathan. It's yours."

The brunet reached out, the realization of what was honestly taking place hitting him when his palm met the cool, bronze hilt of his new weapon. His. _His _sword. He was just about damn well near giddy when he held the blade out before him, gliding careful, hesitant fingers over the newly crafted steel, its shine continuing to sparkle under the lanterns. "My sword," he finally spoke, voice still filled with wonder.

The older man nodded, his smile still uncharacteristically present. "Your sword."

"Captain…?"

"Jonathan?"

"Thank you. I…thank you."

"You're welcome."

--

The next few days went by smoothly. Now that Jonathan was able to spar with Percival himself, it meant that he was also able to spar with the rest of the crew as well. It was interesting too, seeing each and every crew member's different style in terms of fighting.

Todd, who he admittedly hadn't expected much from, turned out to be quite good. When the crew member Wen noticed the puzzled look on the young brunet's face, he explained to him that Todd was an, "In the moment," kind of guy.

He'd also gotten a chance to spar with Douglas. Who was, well…what he had expected Todd to be like. Jonathan would patiently explain to the nervous crewman what it was that Percival had taught him during their lessons. It felt strange to be teaching someone else, especially since the man was older than him, but it appeared he was improving, even if it was just baby steps.

Of course, for one reason or another, he'd been paired up with Shilling Guy. Percival had been quick to cut off that particular match, seeing as how the tallest of the crewmen chose to chase him around with this sword rather than actually fight. By the time the older man had located the two, seeing as how Shilling Guy had managed to chase him all over _the Sacred Heart_, JD was behind the main mast; stiff as a board and wide eyed, while Shilling Guy looked as though he was getting ready to pop out from behind the corner, solely to scare him; his sword having been already put back in it's sheath.

And finally, _finally_, he'd been given the chance to practice with Benjamin. Jonathan had been told by the others that Benji was second best only to the Captain, but when fighting him, the young brunet was honestly unable to tell the difference. He was an _extraordinarily_ good fighter. This, of course, didn't surprise JD in the least. It just made his admiration of Ben all the more grand.

But besides sparring practice, Jonathan was also being given assignments along with the rest of the crew members now too. His were admittedly simpler, such as patching up the sails that needed mending, or going down to storage to retrieve whatever it was that was needed at the time, but he was thrilled to be a part of it all, much to the crew members confusion.

So it was a shock to everybody when, on the seventh day after leaving port, Douglas Murphy came down from the crow's nest in a rush, the spyglass shaking in his hands. "C-C-Captain! _Captain!_"

The crew looked over at the quivering pirate, startled. They knew he was a jumpy one, but never had he sounded so honest to God _petrified. _

Percival was walking towards him at once, his stride rushed and impatient. "What is it, Nervous Guy? I swear, if this is just another shark sighting, then I'm going to –"

"P-P-P-"

"I'm sorry, Pee Pants, but I didn't quite catch that. Mind saying that just a _bit_ clearer for me there?"

"P-_Pirates!_"

The older man's eyes widened at once, but were quick to go back to their usual, slanted scowl. He grabbed the spy glass from the crewman without a word, holding it up to his eye and looking out at the open sea.

Jonathan watched on, frozen where he stood. Percival said that his only enemy out here besides the Navy had been Captain Robert. He was dead though. He didn't have to worry. So why the fear?

Then again, Percival had also said that it was probable that another pirate would come along in hopes to defeat the legendary Captain. And if it _wasn't_ that, then it was just as easily a crew of pirates on their own merry way. That was just as possible too, wasn't it?

Finally, and much to the relief of what seemed to be the entire crew, the older man lowered the seeing instrument, his face looking not at ease, but not at alarm either. "Ship looks vaguely familiar; it was probably anchored at port somewhere near _the Sacred Heart_, but I think if it was a ship in means of an attack, it'd be from a vessel I would recog –"

The older man's words were cut off as a canon ball came hurtling towards them. It fell short of the ship, splashing into the ocean instead, but the crack of the fire had been loud and clear; it's message all too apparent: _We're after you._

"LOAD THE GUNS!"

The Captain's voice rang through the ship, dominant and clear, sending its crew into an organized sort of flurry. All knew where to go and what to do. All accept for one.

Jonathan looked about this way and that, panic stirring at the base of his stomach as he tried to take in what was undeniably happening. He was vaguely reminded of that night on _the Fractured Enid,_ when the storm had hit and chaos had ensued. No one had helped him. No one had even looked his way.

But somebody _was_ helping him, as was made apparent by the sudden grasp on his shoulders. Two large, calloused hands were leading him within the confines of the cabin he had spent his first two weeks in; those peaceful, peaceful weeks.

"Captain? Captain, what're you doing!?"

"You're staying in my cabin until it's over, you hear me Jonathan? You – stay – here."

The brunet had no idea why he said what came out of his mouth next. He was more than just petrified at the idea of fighting, especially in a battle that had a high chance of ending in bloodshed, but a strong sense of obligation – no. Loyalty. No; _love. _Love, loyalty, and an odd sort of determinationcame rushing through him. He had to fight with the rest of the crew; his _family._ He had to fight along side of Percival and Benjamin and Christopher. He had to fight with – _for_ – all of those who had taken care of him; who had saved him and had helped him and who were currently bringing him back to his village. How could he just sit, safe and sound in the Captain's cabin, while the rest of the crew went on fighting? "But you trained me for this!" he was suddenly protesting. "You trained me just in case! I have to fight! I have to help! Captain, I –"

"STAY IN THE CABIN UNTIL I SAY OTHERWISE!"

And just the like that, the door had slammed, leaving the young brunet at a complete and utter loss as to what to do next.

--

The Captain was at the wheel, turning it sharply so that they were facing the attacking ship. He wasn't going to run away; not before seeing who in God's name was attacking them, completely and utterly unprovoked.

"The canons are ready, Captain. Should we fire?"

"On my signal, yes. I want to get closer first; want to see who these sons of bitches are."

"Where's Jonathan?"

"I threw him in the cabin."

"Ah…"

"…Benjamin."

"Yeah?"

"Are you ready for this? Whatever this even is?"

"Perry…"

For the first time since their conversation, the older man turned around to face his first mate, hands still on the wheel of the vessel. The expression that met his own stirred something within him; something that he felt no desire to pinpoint.

Ben's eyes held a seriousness there that was so very scarcely seen; a feeling that seemed to be coming off of him in waves and enveloping the red headed man that stood by the wheel, waiting for his words with an odd, unexplainable ache.

But despite the situation, despite all the dangers that were currently coming to fruition, a grin broke out on the first mate's lips, giving his eyes that old, familiar spark. "When am I not ready?" he finally asked, a dash of humor lining his tone.

Percival grinned, matching his best friend's expression. And just like that, it was game time.

--

Within the confines of the cabin, Jonathan paced, his expression one of great worry. What was he supposed to do? Should he disobey the Captain? Run out with his sword drawn? After all, he _did_ have his sword on him. He'd had it strapped to his belt since Percival had first given it to him, as a matter of fact. Still, was that the route to take here?

Suddenly, he found himself pressed against the door, his hand on the handle and his ear against the wood. He was listening; listening for any signs that he was needed. Any signs that, maybe, if they were lucky, there'd be no fight at all.

But all at once, his dream of a battle-less day came to an abrupt and terrifying halt.

"Why hello, Perry."

Jonathan froze.

No. No, no, no, no, _no!_ It couldn't be. It _couldn't_ be! He was dead. Gone. Never coming back. He was never coming _back!_

"_Kelso…_" His Captain's words were hissed through clenched teeth, a rage burning fiercely behind them, but it was clear and carried through the door; shattering whatever veil of denial that he had been trying so desperately with to keep out the truth.

Somehow, by some unexplainable horror, Captain Robert was alive.

--

"No 'hi?' No, 'How're you doing?' No ounce of respect for your old superior?"

Percival felt the rage in him churn so rapidly that those stricken with such powerful, raw hatred towards an individual would have collapsed under its pressure. But he managed to swallow it down, his hand circling the hilt of his sword, still sheathed, as his burning, blue eyes met the cold ones staring back at him. "You were only my superior through a vein and hollow title. Your actions were anything but. You have to gain respect to earn it, Beelzebub, and not once in all those years of working in that God forsaken place did I ever look on you with respect. Not once."

"But you have to admit it eventually, Perry. How genius the plan was; how absolutely cunning. No one thought twice before running you out, did they? Through a mask of innocence I watched them die, and they lapped up my façade from the palm of my hands. Surely, though your hate is undeniable, surely you must respect me for the genius of it all. Tell me how you felt, _really felt,_ when you realized what I had done? When no one would listen to you other than that pathetic excuse for an artist? When that whore and your lump of a child –"

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP AND DRAW YOUR SWORD, YOU FILTHY COWARD! HIDING BEHIND INNOCENT LIVES DESTROYED, BY BIG TALK AND MEANINGLESS GLARES – DRAW YOUR SWORD AND LET'S SEE WHAT YOU'RE REALLY MADE OF!"

And through a whirlwind of hate and rage and adrenaline, both vessels fired their cannons, both crews came lunging at one another, and a chorus of steel hitting steel erupted through out the two ships, while one, small cabin boy remained within the confines of a cabin, deciding what step to take next.

--

His blood felt cold as it coursed through his veins, though his heart paced with such a frantic rhythm that he was sure his skin was burning. The sound of sword against sword was undeniable. The canons' fire loud and border line unbearable, and his Captain's voice, his response to words he did not understand, had hit his ear drums through the door in which they'd been pressed upon, the anger and hurt behind them so powerful that it seemed stronger than the canons' fire itself.

But while he may not have understood the exchange between his old captain and his new, he did understand one thing for sure: He couldn't stay in here. He couldn't stay, hidden and safe, while a war was waging outside. He needed to put what he had learned from his sparring lessons to action and help; even if it horrified him. Even if he knew that the probability of coming out alive was very, very slim.

So it was with a rush of adrenaline – for he wouldn't call it bravery – did he erupt from the cabin in a frenzy, sword drawn. He did not think when a face he had no name for rushed up to him, sword drawn as well, but he acted solely on what he had learned; mimicking only through his memory the steps he had taken so many times while sparring. So when he realized that the person he had been fighting against was suddenly gripping his thigh in agony, blood pouring from the wound, it was a great shock to him that he had, in fact, gotten away from his first attack unscathed.

And suddenly he was doing more than mimicking, but actually thinking about his steps, his movements. He was fighting off those who came towards him with great effort but with great success; his height, he suddenly realized, was working to his advantage for the first time in his life. For even when he came across someone too much for him, too big, he was able to maneuver through the chaos and come across another he could handle. Wound them only, yes, but it was enough to weaken their attack on others and, sometimes, even get them out of the game, as it seemed Robert's new crew was not nearly as strong as his old.

Through the fighting and the clashing of steel, Jonathan was also beginning to take in his surroundings; how odd it seemed that such a beautiful sunset was taking place while blood was being spilled.

He saw the both horrifying and blessed site that was the Captain and his first mate, back to back and performing the style in which they had slaved over; conquering those who came at them – the two managing to defeat without the kill – and moving about the ship in a speed that the used-to-be-cabin boy could only dream of matching.

He saw Christopher's sword smack fiercely against another's, the look on his face pure concentration as he all but threw him out of his way, moving on to another.

He saw Shilling Guy forgo the style in which they'd been taught, relying on brute force to condemn those that dared to attack his Captain and crew.

He saw Todd and Douglas team up on Robert's first mate, Theodore, and was stricken with an odd sort of sympathy as the hand smacking crew member thrust his blade within the bald man. The sweaty pirate fell to the ground, gone, and the brunet had to turn from the scene, from the haunting smile that had been splayed across the poor man's face when he took his last breath.

Truly, Theodore had gotten what he wanted.

He saw Kelso dive for Benjamin, forcing him away from his current team-up with Percival. Saw Ben's fierceness as he jumped upon the railing of _the Sacred Heart_ along with Robert, matching each and every move that the black hearted Captain threw at him with an elegant fierceness that he would never be able to describe.

He saw Percival bring unconsciousness to the pirate in which he had been fighting; saw him turn around to where Benjamin and Robert were going at it; their swords clinging and clanging like a haunted melody.

He saw Ben move half a second too slow as the sword came diving towards him; hitting its mark. Saw Kelso's face alight with the most evil of expressions as the blue in Ben's eyes seemed to explode from the realization of what had just taken place.

And he saw those eyes dart to Percival, dart to him, before those life embracing arms spread out in a gesture of farewell, in a gesture that was still, even in its demise, embracing all before him. Saw the sunset behind him take its final bow, as the shock in Ben's expression melted into that of a soft, glowing smile.

He heard his words so clearly, even amongst the Captain's entangled cries, as he watched the man before him fall back into the sea's collecting waves.

_"But on nights like this…"_

"BENJAMIN!" Somewhere, the Captain was shouting…

_"When the weather's perfect and the sun's setting just right…"_

"BENJAMIN, NO!"

_"I like to get up on the railing and turn my back to it all…"_

"**BENJAMIN!**"

_"I like knowing something that peaceful is waiting right behind me…"_

"BENJAAAMIIIIN!"

"_It feels like I'm flying, and God, wouldn't that be something?"_

"I'LL KILL YOU!"

_"Sometimes I'd like to see if I could…"_

"FACE ME, YOU COWARD!"

_"To just let myself fall and know that the water would catch me…"_

"PICK UP YOUR SWORD AND FACE ME!"

Through a haze of denial Jonathan could feel the sudden presence of steel against his throat, could vaguely recognize the horror that was his life about to be taken, could see Percival approaching where he stood, like a monster just released from its cage, and yet all he could hear was Ben.

_"Don't not do something because you might be bad at it, buddy!"_

"RELEASE HIM!"

_"How will you ever know?"_

"RELEASE HIM AT ONCE!"

_"Besides…"_

Blood was on him. Lot's of blood.

_"Besides…"_

It was everywhere; the feel of it, the smell of it. Who was bleeding? His heart was racing too fast to be dying. The Captain. He was standing just fine, so that only left…but no. The Captain doesn't kill. He never kills…

_"Besides…"_

But the steel wasn't on his throat anymore, was it…

_"Besides…"_

And, as if he just saw Ben's fall for the first time since it's happening, Jonathan screamed.

_"Besides, life's too short not to live while you can."_

_**A/N:**__ Whether it is pathetic or not, I cried while writing this. Normally, I wouldn't share something like that, but…I just wanted to establish one main thing here: I took no pleasure in writing that, and yes, I knew that was going to happen since the beginning, and I still completely and utterly hated writing that chapter._


	11. Chapter XI

_**A/N: **__First and foremost, I want to thank everybody for the kind reviews they left me after the last chapter. Your words of encouragement never cease to raise my spirits, but last time, I was very nervous that I would be receiving words of anger after what took place. But you were all so understanding and understood what it was that I was trying to accomplish, and I thank you for that immensely. On a different note, I received a beautiful gift earlier this week from the wonderful _**Exangeline**_**. **__She drew a beautiful piece from chapter 7 of this story that had me grinning from ear to ear. I've put a link to it on my profile (you'll have to copy and paste it, as the site won't allow me direct links anymore, for one reason or another) but please feel free to check it out. Just a quick warning about my profile though: I've changed it quite a bit since the finale (Did anyone other than myself bawl like a little baby?) I say this mainly because I know there are those on here who haven't seen it yet, so I just wanted to give you a heads up. It's easy to avoid, even if you go there, but I wanted to warn you just in case. But enough of my rambling. I hope you enjoy the next chapter._

_**Disclaimer:**__ I own a very large nothing. _

**Chapter XI:**

"_All of the things I have done, terrible things; you would never believe the things that I've done, oh how you'd run, if you knew a single one of all of the things that I've done."_

_-Terrible Things, by April Smith and the Great Picture Show-_

Jonathan's scream died in his own ears; the sound of other cries mingling in with his own.

It wasn't until he turned around to where they, Kelso's crew, were all pointing and shouting, horrified. Robert's dead body lay right behind him, the wound in his stomach pouring blood. Those cold, hateful eyes now glassy and unseeing.

Captain Robert was dead; gone from the world in which he used to haunt.

But the truth of his death seemed to penetrate Jonathan's senses, leaving him more confused and horrified than ever before. It wasn't the site of him lifeless that made his stomach churn, but the reason he was currently laying there, not breathing. The only person who could have killed him…

Slowly, he turned his attention back to the man before him; whose eyes he had been so horribly afraid of making contact with.

And for good reason.

Percival was standing frighteningly still, yet his chest moved up and down with a bone chilling vigor. He was staring, expression seemingly blank, at the bloody corpse that was the used to be Captain of _the Fractured Enid._ But his eyes – his eyes told a whole different story.

At first, they seemed unbelieving; like the lifeless man before him couldn't have possibly been the result of his own actions. But then the identity of who he had just killed seemed to sink in, and there was anger; a burning, unadulterated anger. And then, as Kelso's crew screamed and scattered, abandoning their ship and returning to their own, there was an overwhelming sadness in those eyes. One Jonathan could just barely look at without breaking down himself. And suddenly those blues were looking into his own; clearly conflicted. Both stood shocked; completely still. Both eyes were filled with a horror that seemed to have its own voice as both eyes – yes, _both_ eyes – filled to the brim with tears that went unshed. Because the terror of Kelso's death was that the Captain, for the first time since his piracy, had killed another human being. But that was not the most horrifying of the day's events; certainly not the reason both individuals went unmoving, too afraid to speak.

For what felt like an eternity, their eyes stayed locked onto one another. No cheers for having won the battle went celebrated through out _the Sacred Heart_. Those who had not seen the death of their first mate were being told now in hushed whispers, their eyes only a meager reflection of the young boy and his Captain. It wasn't until the corpse of Kelso was dragged away and thrown over the railing did a spark seem to burst inside of the older man; the sound of a body hitting water awakening him all at once to the horror of what had just enfolded only moments ago.

"No…"

It came out in a choked whisper; small and cracked and barely audible.

"_No…_" Whatever sadness that had been splayed on the older man's expression morphed immediately back into rage, though the grief in his half spoken plea was still there.

Jonathan felt his hands curl into fists, his eyes shutting tight as the tears finally let themselves free. He couldn't watch the breakdown; it was just too much. Just too damn much…

"No, Ben, no! No, no, no, _NO!"_

Sobs overtook him as he heard, rather than saw, his Captain run over to the railing in which Ben had taken his final bow. Screams erupted through the ship, and when Jonathan opened his blood shot eyes, still crying, the reality of what had just happened only intensified by the image that was his Captain getting dragged away from the railing; his arms fighting wildly against whoever was trying to hold him back.

"HE MAY STILL BE DOWN THERE! LET GO! RAT BASTARDS, LET _GO!_"

"HE'S NOT DOWN THERE!" Shilling Guy.

"BURN IN HELL OR LET ME GO!"

"I CAN'T! I WON'T! THIS ISN'T FUN FOR ME DAMN IT, BUT I CAN'T!"

And it was true; the taller man wasn't taunting him; wasn't trying to increase the pain. But if he let go of his Captain when instructed, then Percival would be in the ocean right now; swimming frantically for the friend he had cared for so dearly.

Jonathan didn't know when it was the Captain gave in; he didn't know when the screaming finally stopped. Because his body wouldn't let him stay conscious for the rest of the nightmare that was their current lives. Darkness over took him as his knees hit the blood stained deck of _the Sacred Heart,_ and somewhere in the back of his mind, he wept even more; for with the disappearance of his consciousness came the disappearance of Ben's voice.

--

When Jonathan next woke up, he found himself placed in the small hammock that Benjamin had given – The brunet swallowed back a lump of tears. His mind was not even permitting him the two second illusion that would allow him to think it had all been a horrible, horrible nightmare.

It took him a second to realize how uncharacteristically silent the ship was, and a few more seconds to realize that the vessel had stopped moving. It was no wonder the crew headed in early that night for sleep; if sleep was even planning on coming to any of them anyway. But why had they stopped moving?

JD sat up slowly, his head aching and swimming from all that had taken place. It took him a second before noticing the stillness of the sea; how the usual waves that would lap up against the boat seemed to have come to a crashing halt. They had anchored, he realized. No one had been up for steering the vessel; no one had, had the strength to, after today…

Painfully, both physically and emotionally, Jonathan removed himself from the hammock. He stood there, silent and still, for what felt like forever. And before he knew where he was headed, he was standing by the railing; the same spot in which Ben had shared his last smile. He couldn't remember walking over there; couldn't remember the faintest desire to. But he was standing at the very spot, looking out into the waters that were far too calm for the reflection of what had happened there today, and for the first time since his coming over, JD realized he was not alone.

Four feet from where he stood, the Captain stood there as well. His hands stuffed in his pockets, his tricorn hat removed, his eyes both mournful and vacant as he stared out at the open sea. What were they waiting for, the two of them? What were they expecting? And with a bolt of realization, Jonathan remembered Benjamin's words; words which had stuck in their minds without them even realizing it…until now:

"_Of course, I'd pop right back up, soaked and laughing, and then ol' Per-Per would yell at me for being so stupid."_

But Ben was never going to pop right back up, was he? No. He wasn't. A horrible truth that both Percival and Jonathan couldn't deny.

They stood like that for what could have very well been hours, and just as JD was contemplating on speaking, even if he had no idea what it was he would say, Percival turned away from him, heading straight for his cabin and closing the door.

--

The next morning came without the familiar ring of the bell, or the familiar voice that came along with it…

The crew was up anyway though; most of them having gotten close or no sleep, the days events having kept them up all night long.

Percival, however, was nowhere to be seen.

"I saw him go into his cabin last night," Jonathan mumbled quietly.

He and Christopher were sitting against the main mast, their backs pressed to the wood, though Jonathan's chin was placed securely on his knees, both legs drawn close to his chest. Turk's legs were crossed before him, his chin resting on his folded hands as they continued staring at nothing in particular.

They stirred only when heavy footsteps passed them, its figure heading straight for the Captain's Cabin.

It was weird to see Shilling Guy looking so serious; acting so respectful. Both he and Turk waited with bated breath as the taller crewman knocked once – twice – again and again. But there was no answer, so with what appeared to be a surprisingly nervous intake of breath, the taller man opened the door just a crack, slipping in silently.

Through the crack of the door that Shilling Guy had left opened, Jonathan could only see darkness. Had Percival not even bothered with lighting the lanterns?

Mumbling. Jonathan strained to hear. A part of him felt guilty for eavesdropping, but his stomach twisted with worry for the older man. Though he knew another reason for his worry, and it brought shame to him; a guilt he couldn't deny.

The thought of the Captain breaking down; the thought of him vulnerable – it scared him. Scared him beyond belief. _His_ Captain, burdened? _His _Captain, stricken? Percival was human, and Jonathan did not expect him to come out of his cabin unscathed, but it scared him; scared him so much – the thought that maybe he would never come out again.

And it scared him how helpless he felt; how little it seemed he could do for the man that had done so much for him.

Shilling Guy came out only a few minutes later, his face seemingly indifferent. "Turn the ship around," he was demanding of Todd.

"Where are we going?"

"Back to port."

"Port? Why?"

"Captain's orders."

"But why?"

"Because we're almost out of rum."

--

The week in which it took them to sail back to port was a painful one.

Hardly anyone spoke, though it seemed everyone on board had paired up with another. Silent company, of course, but each crewmember seemed to be latched onto another, as if their very presence eased some of their shared pain.

The blood that had been shed on _the Sacred Heart_ had been cleaned away, yet Jonathan couldn't help but notice that, despite its new cleanliness, everyone was avoiding the spot in which Ben had fallen.

Everyone went about their tasks, but no one spoke. No one did much of anything other than what was required of them.

And through this whole week, Percival had yet to emerge from his cabin.

Jonathan wasn't sure whether he felt relieved or nauseous upon making port, but when he turned to face the town as the vessel pulled up to an empty dock, he could've easily broken down right then and there.

Hadn't they been here just a few weeks ago; happy and carefree? Happy and carefree _together?_ And now here they were again, a family member missing, the ship in mourning over the loss of a cherished one.

And Jonathan could have sworn that the town seemed dimmer. The lights not as brilliant, the colors not as grand.

It appeared dead.

Silently, the crew stepped off of the vessel. Only Jonathan was around to see Percival emerge from his cabin.

The man's hair was completely disheveled, and a beard was on his face now; a beard that only seemed to highlight his misery. The tricorn hat that usually adorned his head was no where to be seen, as well as the sword that he'd always – no matter where he was – had carried around his belt. His jacket had been removed as well, revealing that his current attire was the same thing he'd been wearing when everything went to hell.

And oh, God, his eyes…his eyes were red rimmed and glassy, purple bags lying beneath them that showed to anyone who looked on that he'd gone a many sleepless nights. And when he walked straight past Jonathan and out onto the docks, JD could smell the scent of rum; could see the swagger in his step as his image disappeared in the crowds of the town.

Jonathan cried for a solid hour before leaving the ship himself.

--

He walked through the town alone and in a blur, not really sure where it was he was headed. He was both horrified and relieved when he blinked, emerging himself from whatever daydream his mind had concocted for him, to see that he was in the very same eating establishment he had danced in with everybody only a few weeks ago.

Weeks. The very thought of it blew his mind. It felt more like _months._

Anxiously, his eyes darted to the back table; where he and those he loved had eaten and talked together.

No one, of course, was there.

A familiar voice, soft and soothing, caught his attention, and it was coming from the bar.

Percival was sitting on a stool, his elbows the only thing propping him up, while his hand was gripped sluggishly around the neck of a large bottle. A bottle of rum, no doubt. His eyes stared at nothing, but the familiar voice went on. Jonathan couldn't hear what Carla was saying to him, but her gaze was steady and sympathetic, her voice motherly as she continued on talking to him, though his eyes moved past her to continue on in their vacant gaze.

"Sweetie?"

JD blinked. He'd been staring so intently at Percival's back. He hadn't noticed Carla stop talking, nor had he noticed her leaving the bar in order to approach him. "Sweetie, I don't think now's the best time to be here, okay? Let's get you back to the ship."

But Jonathan was only half paying attention to her, his eyes back to staring at the form that was Percival. "Captain," he muttered.

"Come on, Jonathan, let's get you back to the ship, okay? I'm going to bring the others back too. I want to talk with them, so let's –"

"My Captain…" Jonathan couldn't stop staring at him, the broken down man who he so admired. Couldn't stop wishing he would get up from that barstool; come to him, talk to him, _embrace_ him. It was selfish and wrong and the boy hated himself for it, but he craved so deeply for the older man's comfort.

But no, there was more to it. There was the underlying fact that he could do _nothing_ to help him; to ease the pain and somehow, some way, remove from the Captain the pure torment and misery that laced every emotion that was under that drunken composure. He wanted his Captain back behind the wheel and yes – even if it was to drop him off at his old village, to drop him off and never see him again – he'd take it. He'd take it just to see the Captain once again standing upright and in command.

But he was paralyzed with fright; unable to take the step further and approach the man that was currently swigging down another gulp of rum.

A soft skinned thumb was suddenly caressing his cheek, and Jonathan realized that he had been crying. Silently his tears had fallen, so softly that he himself hadn't noticed them, but it was Carla who stood there patiently, wiping them away and making soft, soothing noises under her breath. "Let's go, Jonathan," she finally spoke, "I'll take you back to the ship."

--

Jonathan's back pressed against the main mast as usual, his knees curled up to his chest while his chin rested tiredly onto them for support.

He was surprised when each and every crewmember came back onto _the Sacred Heart,_ until he saw Carla escorting them all, Elliot with her as well. He hadn't been paying close attention, but he remembered her saying that she was going to gather the others and bring them back with her too.

But why? What difference did it make whether they were together on the ship or scattered about the town? It meant nothing either way if Percival was still in that bar…

He felt the familiar presence of Christopher come and sit beside him. He glanced at him for only a moment before returning his gaze back to Carla, who was now standing in front of them all, her expression sympathetic. Still, her body language was that of one with something to say. She didn't have to wait long either, what with the usual silence that seemed to be lingering in the air as it had been all week long.

"I'm sorry."

It was the first thing that came out of her mouth when she spoke, and Jonathan knew instantly that she meant what she said. Her eyes held a restrained sadness, while Elliot beside her could not even look up. The blonde's eyes were undoubtedly filling with tears.

"I'm sure you are all extremely saddened right now, undoubtedly dealing with it in your own way. Unfortunately, one among you has fallen fairly hard, more so than the rest of you. This doesn't mean that your grief is insignificant. What it means is that the relationship held with Benjamin differed from person to person. I'm sure most of you know this, but your first mate was dear friends with your Captain well before piracy. In case you weren't aware of that, I'm hoping this piece of information can help you to understand why it is Percival is taking this harder than you might have expected him to.

"But we're a family here, and I know these words must seem vacant coming from Elliot and I, as we are not a part of your crew, but the majority of you know us well, as we also know you. And we…we loved Benjamin dearly."

Jonathan swallowed, doing his best to hold back the tears as he witnessed, for the first time since he'd seen her that day, the dark haired woman choke up. She closed her eyes, breathed in slowly, and began speaking once again. "As I was saying…we're a family here, and what do we do when one of ours has fallen?"

Silence encased the vessel as all those who listened shuffled about uncomfortably. The thought occurred to Jonathan quite suddenly, but was it possible that, since being on board _the Sacred Heart,_ for any of them, that this was the first real tragedy they had ever encountered? Their loss of words seemed to answer "yes" as they waited for whatever it was the waitress was going to say next.

"We have to help him," Carla finally spoke, and Jonathan could have sworn her eyes landed on him momentarily, but then they were back on the crew, looking at them all as a group. "I think it would be a good idea to go to him, one at a time, in shifts. To look out for him, talk to him. He's currently not speaking, as I myself tried this earlier, but I think it is important to keep on showing him that we're here; that he's not alone in his suffering.

"I do not expect you all to know exactly what to say, but I think, no matter what it is that comes to you, it will be appreciated."

Jonathan blinked. This time, he was more than certain that her eyes had landed on him yet again. But what did she expect from him? If she couldn't get him to talk, to rise from that bar stool and leave the bottle where it sat, what did she honestly think he could do?

He felt useless.

"Christopher."

Beside him, Turk looked up at the woman who'd been addressing them, his brown eyes just as mournful as hers.

"I told him I'd send you in first. Do you think you could…?"

Without hesitation, the pirate stood from his place by the main mast, giving her a nod and heading at once for the bar. Jonathan realized more than ever that, despite their differences, Christopher truly did respect the Captain.

One by one the crew members seemed to dissipate, awaiting whenever it was they'd be summoned into the bar to keep the red headed man company.

One by one, until it was just himself and Carla.

The waitress came over to him quietly, sitting down beside him and resting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I don't expect you to go to him," she said quietly, "As I know Ben's death must be wearing heavily on your heart as well. You're a child, Jonathan, and I say this not in a demeaning way, but one of comfort: I don't think anyone expects you to take part in this."

JD looked up at her, his chin still resting on his knees. Her voice was sincere when she spoke, as well as the look in her eyes, but hidden beneath them, Jonathan could feel more than sense the underlying plea: _Go to him. Please. Go to him._ She had meant what she said, yes, but that didn't mean she didn't secretly hope; secretly wish…

With a gentleness Jonathan had never received from his own mother, Carla reached out and hugged him, before she herself departed from the ship, leaving him alone in his mourning.

--

He stood at the entrance of the eating establishment, leaning against its wooden frame as he watched Todd, of all people, place himself on a stool next to Percival before diving into a one sided conversation.

Three days had passed since Carla announced her plan to the crew of _the Sacred Heart,_ and still the Captain continued on in his drinking, while everyone came to accompany him, one by one.

Everyone but him, of course.

What was he supposed to say? What was he supposed to do? What if, somehow, his words only made it worse? What if…what if he failed…?

For the first time since that awful, awful day, Benjamin's voice broke through his train of thought, startling him to the extent of wanting to cry.

_"Don't not do something because you might be bad at it, buddy! How will you ever know?"_

Jonathan swallowed. Ben was right. He'd always been right. Why was he just standing there, not doing a damn thing? Because he was afraid? Because he felt useless? Yes – both were true, but was it a reason to not at least _try?_

Fear swelled in his chest as he, slowly and cautiously, approached the bar in which his fallen idol sat drinking. When Todd noticed him standing there, looking on at the scene with an obvious hesitance, his usual composure dissipated into something like quiet respect. He nodded once before removing himself from the barstool, making room for Jonathan to sit; leaving the two alone.

"I miss you."

It was the first thing that left JD's mouth when he began speaking, doing his best to hide the turmoil that continued to rage on inside of him. "I would've come to you sooner, but…but I was scared."

Silence.

"Since the moment you rescued me, since the moment I opened my eyes and saw you standing beside my bed…I've had this amazing respect for you. I look at you and think, 'If I can grow up to be half that amazing, then I'd be content.' And even when you rant and get angry, you always…you always care, don't you? No, I know you do. It's always there. And I see in you all the things I want to be; all the things I admire. And my respect turned into…into more than just that. I…you're like my…" Jonathan swallowed. Now was not the time. He couldn't say it. Not yet. "But anyway...I was scared. Scared to come here and talk to you like this, because seeing you here… I remember you telling me about your need to seem bullet proof. So to see you here like this…it scared me. It still does. But that's my problem, and it's a problem I'll push pass and get through, because anything's worth seeing you back with us, Captain. Anything's worth that."

Through his speech, Jonathan had been staring down at the bar's counter top, doing his best to say his piece without choking up in the process. When the silence ensued, he looked up towards the man that sat next to him, and had to refrain from literally gasping out loud.

Eye contact. Sweet, sweet eye contact.

Mournful blue eyes stared into his own, yet his brows were drawn together, clearly contemplating over what he had just said.

And while his voice was low and his tone filled with anguished nostalgia, the sudden awakening of his speech was like exceedingly missed music. "Did Benjamin ever tell you what I did before piracy…?"

Jonathan shook his head, waiting anxiously yet patiently for the older man to continue.

"I was a physician once; a good one, too. Everyone in my town came to me when they were sick; when there was a medical crisis that no one else could handle; that no one else could figure out. I helped people. I didn't always _like_ the people I helped, but I did it with pride and, whether or not I told them, care. I cared about what happened to them; whether or not they would get better. I slaved over new medications; different treatments that could cure what could never be cured before. And I did all this with complete disregard for the man that would rather me ship off the patients that he deemed, "Uncurable," so that the ones who had a better chance would be emitted into our place of work and promptly pay him in full. By the look on your face, I'm guessing you already know who I'm referring to. Yeah, Newbie, it was Kelso. Robert Kelso was my boss; the one man in that whole establishment who had any power over me.

"I didn't even mind working under someone else, if that's what you're wondering. But I mind it when they're heartless, despicable souls. Which is a compliment towards that heathen of a man, for all the evil things he really was; for all the evil things he did…

"…It was winter, the busiest season for us. People would come in right and left – sneezing and coughing and vomiting – the whole package. But that was the least of my problems that year, because along with the usual patients that the winter brought, in came three different patients; patients whose organs were failing them.

"It wasn't a very popular procedure – it still isn't – but I came to the conclusion that, if we were to take the organs from somebody that had already passed, we could give them to the ones who needed them. The actual procedure wasn't done by me, of course. That was the job of the surgeons, but the order given to them was mine. I was in charge of what step to take next.

"Kelso, if you hadn't realized it already, hated me as much as a human being could hate another. I was cocky, arrogant, which I won't even sit here and deny, but damn it all if I didn't need to be that way, because I'll tell you something, Newbie – if I had walked around that place all humble like, every little thing would have worn me down, and I would've been out of the game – useless to those who needed me.

"But of course I didn't explain that to Kelso. Didn't want to. And even if I did, he wouldn't have wanted to hear it anyway. And he hated me not only for my arrogance, but because I was, to an extent that he couldn't even deny, extraordinarily good at my job. Kelso was old in age, close to being kicked out of his place of work and onto whatever it was he would've done. I would've taken his spot if that had ever happened; an idea he couldn't put up with.

"I knew he hated me for that, but I was still unaware of how _much_ he truly hated me; how far he would go. I didn't think twice about telling him my plan to give the organs of those who had died to the ones who needed them. He was my boss, so whether I liked him or not, I still had to tell him these things. And even if he hated me for thinking of something he himself hadn't thought of, it didn't really matter, did it? Because he would never go as far as taking his anger towards me out on the patients themselves.

"But God, was I wrong. I was never more wrong in my life.

"I went ahead and gave the order for the procedure, content enough that he had given his permission for me to do so. I watched on, ecstatic, as those patients started in their recovery, thankful for what we had done for them.

"But then something horrible happened. Their condition, which had been improving so drastically, was beginning to spiral downwards. I was baffled; completely and utterly confused as to how this could have happened.

"After the third patient passed on, I almost lost my mind. I stepped out of the building, completely worn, and was surprised more than ever when Robert was suddenly beside me. I thought, in a moment of lunacy, that some part of his non-existent human side was awakening; that he had come to share with me his disappointment in what had happened to those patients.

"But when I looked at him, I was horrified, sickened, to see that he was smirking; that ice glare of his gleaming in what appeared to be triumph.

"'Shame,' he said mischievously, in barely more than a whisper, 'That such innocent lives were destroyed over a procedure that could have saved them. I wonder what could have caused such a thing? Unless!'

"I was staring at him at this point, mortified by the mock surprise that laced his sudden, 'revelation.' 'Unless,' he'd started up again, 'something was, let's say, _wrong_ with the organs you gave them? What if they were infected? Have you thought of that, Percival? Did you think of that at the time?'

"'Of course I did!' I shot back, angry at being spoken down too when all hell had just broken loose. 'But I checked for that, and they weren't. They were fine!'

"'Oh, I'm sure they were fine when _you _checked for it. But let's say someone 'checked,' on them afterwards as well. Let's say someone infected them themselves. Now wouldn't that be something? You know…I'm sure when the family of those patients find out what happened to their loved ones, they are going to be _devastated_. They'll probably run whoever it was that ordered that procedure right out of town, don't you think?'

"It hit me like a bullet; the horrible truth to what he was so deviously confessing: Robert had infected those organs. He had killed three innocent lives solely to get me out of his way. He had killed _three innocent people_ simply in that he and I didn't get along. And he had set me up. And I had taken the bait, too. I killed three patients.

"Of course, I told this to everyone who would listen; all those who had worked with me, the family members, the town council who were debating with one another on what they would do with me; to simply fire me or drive me out? I told them I had been set up, but nobody would hear it; nobody wanted to.

"I went home finally, to my family. Yeah, Newbie, my family. Over and over my wife asked what had happened, but she asked with an obvious disinterest. My wife was, whether you can believe this or not, more emotionally crippled than myself. She gave up after I took to the bottle; delving myself into a drinking frenzy. My reasoning for not telling her was simple though: If she knew what it was I did, what I was accused of, she could be more connected to me than she already was. And if the council decided to run me out, than they could just as easily run her out too.

"And then there was my son.

"Yeah, Newbie, I had a son. A good, good kid. He was only three at the time. Innocent and oblivious to what was taking place around him. Selfishly and in something of a blur, I peered at him over the bottle, looked into his curious blue eyes that were staring at me, wondering what it was I was doing. And then he spoke: those four words that broke me and everything else that had yet to be broken. Innocently he said it, like nothing more than a mere observation: 'Daddy drinks a lot.'

"My wife heard the comment, of course, and in a fury she packed her things – packed my son – and left.

"I used whatever willpower I had left to try and stop her, but that just brought me back to my initial reason for keeping from her what had happened.

"So I watched her go and take my son with her through a veil of denial, and I guess, in a sickeningly horrible way, it was perfect timing, because it was the next day when the council decided what was to be my fate.

"They ran me out of town. They branded me as pirate and wanted nothing more to do with me.

"I was lost; devastated. Do I just take a ship and go? And go where? What was it I was supposed to do?

"And then he showed up.

"He stood beside me on the dock, staring out at the open sea with a bundle of his paintings clutched firmly to his side. I was beyond shocked by his presence. Hadn't he heard of what I did? Hadn't he heard what I was charged with? Hadn't his sister told him of my drinking spree?

"'That one there,' he said casually, pointing at the ship that was furthest away. 'That's the one I think we should steal. Whaddya' say, Captain? I'll even make the Jolly Roger for ya'. I was thinking something different though; you know, other than the usual skull and crossbones. Like what if we had the skull, but the crossbones were swords instead? Yeah, I'm going with that one. Hope you don't mind that I'm bringing some of my paintings though. I can't seem to part with all of them, you know?'

"And before I knew it, I was hugging him. Except for my son, and very rarely my wife, I had never hugged another person before. But my arms wrapped so tightly around him, and I think he even dropped his paintings in order to hug me back.

"Hours later, when we had succeeded in stealing the ship, when he had presented me with a tricorn hat and walked with me to the wheel of what we had dubbed _the Sacred Heart_, my old self awakened in me – my take charge, in command side that had been sleeping since those three patients said goodbye to this world.

"But I made a vow then and there – One, I would never drink the way I had when everything crashed and burned. My son's face still haunted me, and I would never do that again.

"And two – No matter how unusual it was for a pirate, no matter how hard it would be to live that way and keep that vow, I would never, _never_ take another human life. Never.

"So you see there, Newbie, that whole, 'The pirate who never kills thing,' is only half true. I never killed as a pirate, but I did kill as physician. I did. And now even the pirate thing is shattered; those two vows broken."

"But you can't honestly believe that!" Jonathan was surprised at how quickly the words came to him; how undeniably serious he was. Apparently, Percival was surprised as well; the look he was giving him expressing that clearly.

"You can't really believe that you killed those patients, can you? If Kelso hadn't done what he'd done, they would be alive right now. They'd be alive because of _you._ Their death was Kelso's fault and Kelso's alone."

Jonathan stopped as if to catch his breath. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts; of revelations. Liquor, apparently, did quite a number for Percival's honesty. Yet it wasn't just the ramblings of an intoxicated man. In fact, the Captain spoke quite fluently when he was drunk. But really…if it had just been a drunken confession, he would've told any of the others who had come in to talk to him.

So why him?

"Maybe…"

Jonathan's head shot back in the direction of Percival, relieved and surprised by the older man's consent.

"Ben always said that too… That still doesn't make up for Kelso, though. I killed him in a fury. You can't deny that."

"Yes I can."

Again, Jonathan was more than surprised at his own boldness, but he pressed on, despite the look of, "Are you kidding me?" flashing over the older man's face.

"I'm not denying that you were angry, but…but Captain…he was going to _kill_ me. If you hadn't killed him…if you hadn't killed him, I'd be dead right now…"

The expression on Percival's face seemed to twist into anguish, making Jonathan swallow. Perhaps he should have worded that differently. Still…

"But I was going to kill him anyway," the older man began again. "I wanted to more than anything; after what he did…"

"But that's not _why_ you did it."

"Please…are you honestly trying to convince me that my anger had _nothing_ to do with it?"

"No, no I'm not. But that final moment before you…before you killed him; I was in danger, and you saved me. That's all I know for sure. That you saved me…again."

The red headed man, who had gone back to staring at nothing, turned back to him slowly, his expression open and, God bless him, hopeful. "Yeah…?" he half whispered.

"Yeah."

They sat like that for a while; the two of them in silence as the establishment's population seemed to grow and grow. Yet none of that mattered. None of that affected them in the slightest.

Slowly, hesitantly, Percival's hand withdrew itself from the neck of the bottle, landing motionless on the bar's counter top. It was a few minutes later when he turned around and stood, looking at the place around him as if just realizing where he was for the first time since making port.

Jonathan watched him quietly, until it was the Captain next spoke; his words filling the young brunet with a relief so strong it was palpable.

"Come, Newbie."

It was an invitation, not a command, and Jonathan took it without a moment's hesitation. He stood up from his own stool, following the Captain out of the bar and to where, well, he wasn't quite sure.

But it didn't matter where they were going, because the Captain was walking right next to him; the bottle of rum left abandoned.

_**A/N:**__ Well there it is – Perry's past revealed. I know some of what he said only leads to new questions: Like if Kelso got him run out of town, then why was he out at sea; a pirate himself? But I promise you that, by the time this story is finished, all of those questions will be answered. Well, that's about it from me. Until next time!_


	12. Chapter XII

_**A/N: **__I am, as predicted, finding myself a little behind in this story. Usually when I post a new chapter, I'm at least one chapter ahead of the game. This time I'm only half a chapter ahead. Not good. I'm trying to be better, I assure you, but I swear…every time I sat down to write this week, I just found myself staring at the screen. I don't know why. Maybe it has something to do with the show being over. Or maybe it's just another annoying case of writer's block. (Don't get me wrong – the story's planned out already. I just couldn't get the words to express what I wanted to say) But yeah…I am personally not fond of this chapter, and feel that I owe you all an apology as it is, in my opinion, not up to par. You've all been extremely supportive and encouraging, and I don't want to let you down, so please bare with me here and know that I'm trying._

_Oh, and just one more quick note. I should've stated this in the author's note for the last chapter, but yeah, I know that in the 1700s – 1800s, an organ transplant would have been unheard of. I was trying to keep the story in tune with "My Lunch," and "My Fallen Idol," and I tried to show through the writing that I knew it was historically inaccurate, with Perry saying, "It wasn't a popular procedure – still isn't," but if I failed to express that, than that is my fault and my fault alone. If ever I choose to take this story further, I would go back and edit a lot, that scene included. For now, though, I plan on keeping it as it is. I still want this story to be a homage to Scrubs, so I'd like to keep it there, at least for now._

_Anyway, this was an unusually long author's note, even for me, so I'll be quiet now and let you read the chapter. Cheers._

_**Disclaimer:** I own a very large nothing.  
_

_**Side Note:**__ Unfortunately, there seems to be some spam going around this site. If you get a message entitled, "Haven't written in a while" I would suggest that you block whoever it is and change your password._

**Chapter XII:**

"_Don't wait, don't wait. The road is now a sudden sea, and suddenly you're deep enough to lay your armor down."_

_-Don't Wait, by Dashboard Confessional-_

The first thing Percival heard upon waking up the next morning was a groan. At first, a memory that seemed much longer ago than it actually was began trying to coax him into laughter. Poor kid must have had one too many again, huh? But the sudden pulse of his temples had him realizing in an instant that the moan he had heard only seconds ago was not from Jonathan, but from his own, weary form.

Percival was not a man who forgot his liquored up behavior. He could drink a gallon and still remember all it was he'd said or done during his state of intoxication. This morning was proving no different, unfortunately, as he remembered all at once what it was he had said to Jonathan.

Everything. He had confessed _everything._

No. No, he hadn't. He hadn't told the boy how much it was he hated the idea of him departing from _the Sacred Heart…_

But his past; he revealed it all. No filter had been drawn up for his words.

Yet as he lay there, he was hit with the strangest realization: He didn't care. He didn't care that Jonathan knew. It was what Ben had wanted him to do, after all…

The ache which was undeniably stronger than his current hangover, the ache he had been trying to avoid upon waking up, was the first sober realization he had had since everything happened; the situation that had caused him to take hold of the bottle once more.

Ben was gone.

Percival swallowed, no longer able to hide from the inevitable truth. Ben _was_ gone, no matter how much he drank or wished otherwise.

Quiet mumbling made the red headed man open his eyes. Right. He was in his cabin. He had taken Jonathan back to _the Sacred Heart_ after their conversation together at the bar in order to head in early; to fall asleep and recover – as much as one could in just a night, anyway – from a week's worth of heavy drinking and heavy mourning.

But the mumbling – that wasn't him that time, was it?

Slowly, so as to not increase his already pulsing headache, Percival sat up from where he lay, scanning the room for the source of the not-so-unfamiliar noise.

Curled up in the corner of his cabin, half hidden by a messy heap of blankets, Jonathan lay sleeping. And it was more than just mumbling he had heard – those soft, murmur like noises that had caused his eyes to open – but quiet, bursts of shudders as the kid's eyes scrunched as he dozed, his face twisting with hurt.

The boy was crying in his sleep.

Percival inhaled slowly, trying his best to calm the quickening pace of his heart. No, he didn't regret telling the kid his past in that he no longer minded the boy knowing, but what he did regret was having gotten to that point in the first place; of having felt so lost and disorientated that the eleven year old lad had been forced to come in and talk him out of it. Jonathan was a kid; a strong kid, but a kid nonetheless. It was the Captain's job to take care of him. Not the other way around.

And what had the brunet been doing during his week of intoxication? Had any one been there to help him during _his_ mourning? Had anyone other than himself realized how close the boy had gotten to Benjamin?

Quietly, so as not to wake him, Percival stood from his place on the bed, ignoring the room that spun before him as he made his way over to JD.

Wrapping the blankets more comfortably around him before doing so, the curly haired Captain picked him up gently, the young lad wriggling in his hold before settling again, though his tears still leaked through closed eyes.

Without hesitation, Percival laid him on the bed, his hand running through his hair as his thumb grazed his cheek, wiping away another stray tear as Jonathan let out another distressed mumble. "It's okay now. It's okay. You're alright, kid. Everything's fine. It's okay, Jonathan, you're alright."

The used-to-be-cabin-boy sniffed, but his body relaxed upon hearing Percival's words, his head turning to lean into the open palm that had been brushing away loose locks of brown hair.

Gently so that he wouldn't startle him, the Captain withdrew his hand, turning for the door and heading for the lower deck. He needed to spar; to shatter those barrels into a thousand little splinters.

--

It was a good work out, though his venting had made an enormous amount of noise. He was below enough so that it wouldn't have woken Jonathan up, but he was glad, for his sake as well, that the rest of the crew was still out and about. He didn't want them to see him. Not quite yet.

While none of them had been able to pull him out of his stupor, Percival could remember quite clearly what each and every one of them had said; the fact that they had even been there in the first place. They hadn't been able to pull on his heart strings the way the brunet had, but to say that the older man did not appreciate their presence would have been a huge lie. He'd never be able to really thank them. He wasn't even sure if he knew how. But the least he could do was pull himself together before they all came back on board. Surely they would notice his absence from the bar sooner than later. And once that happened, well, _the Sacred Heart_ would probably be the first place they'd end up looking.

But that was alright. More than anything, he ached to be out at sea again. To feel the ocean's air; to inhale its ever alluring scent. To once again grasp the wheel and move it wherever he pleased. He would finish what Ben started. He would continue on showing Jonathan the marvelous places that he had yet to –

No. No he wouldn't.

Angered by his forgetting and the harsh revelation that he knew was to be their future, Percival drew out his sword and struck another barrel. He hated this. He hated this so much. How many times could one person loose a loved one? How many times before his whole world shattered and there was just no recovering?

His wife, his son, Benjamin…and now Jonathan too?

The Captain closed his eyes and breathed. He hated it. He didn't want to have to drop the kid off at a place he knew very damn well the boy didn't even want to be in, but he had to. And at least…at least he knew Jonathan would be safe there, right? He had a much better chance of surviving in that little town anyway, didn't he? And he wasn't going there out of anything other than guilt ridden obligation, right? It's not like he _wanted_ to get off the ship, _right_…?

Whatever the case, it didn't matter. _The Sacred Heart's_ next stop was to be the village in which Jonathan grew up in. Whether they – _he_ – liked it or not.

--

An hour had passed since officially finishing his anger induced workout, but still Jonathan resided within the cabin. He couldn't blame him, of course. The kid had, had a long day. Hell, more like a long_ week._

Still, whether it was a sense of duty or a stronger paranoia after everything that had happened in the last seven days, Percival felt the overwhelming need to check in on the kid. He would open the cabin, make sure he was sleeping alright, and then go back to preparing the ship for leaving port when, well…whenever the crew decided to come back, he supposed.

So very quietly, Percival crept up to his cabin's door. He'd been getting ready to go about his plan of sticking his head in, just to make sure all was well, when soft sobs, combined with heart wrenching sniffles, grabbed his attention.

They were too loud to have been from somebody who was sleeping; they were too clear and too controlled; like whoever it was, was trying to regain their composure.

Jonathan was crying again, but this time, he was very much awake.

Even more carefully than before, in hopes that he wouldn't be noticed, Percival cracked the door open. What he saw made his heart shatter; the guilt from earlier over not having been there for JD intensifying more than he thought possible.

The brunet sat hunched over on the bed, his hands rubbing vigorously at his eyes as some all-too-familiar paintings sat before him, laid out in a clearly careful way; memorial like, even. At one point, the lad had been hunched over just a little too far, causing the tears he was so obviously trying to repress to land and splatter on the bottom of one of Ben's pieces. Clearly horrified, Jonathan only cried further, trying desperately to wipe away his marking from the painting, as if he had just wrecked a holy artifact.

Percival swallowed. The boy was alone and completely without comfort. The Captain had received his. Where was JD's?

"Newbie…"

The brunet jumped, and when his tear stained face looked up and into his own, the older man was hit with a horrible sense of déjà vu.

The last time he had seen JD looking so frazzled and so stricken was when he had first rescued him.

"I-I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I wanted…wanted to see them. Wanted to see them again because, I…I don't know, I just… I can put them back. I can put them back and we can just let it go… I'm trying, Captain, I'm trying. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I don't know what's…"

"Newbie…" His voice was barely audible, yet even in its whisper, it seemed to penetrate the room's air of turmoil. It was a moment before Jonathan's face fell in on itself, before the tears let loose without compromise, before Percival walked over to the bed in which the young boy sat to sit down himself, holding back whatever it was he was feeling; a hurricane of emotions that he was trying so desperately to control.

He thought he'd lost the battle, too, when Jonathan finally broke; his eyes shutting and his sobs hysterical when he came hurtling towards him; his whole body leaning into the older man's chest as his frail arms wrapped around his middle. "I miss Ben," he spoke in anguish. "I miss him, and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Captain, because I know you must miss him so, so much, but I…and I know I'm not…I know I'm not…"

Percival's hands were twitching. JD was hugging him tightly and with no space left between them. His parental instincts were urging him to return the gesture, but why wasn't he? No, he knew why. He'd hugged a total of three people in his life: His wife, his son, and Benjamin. To add JD to that list would be huge; to fully allow the kid into his life. But why would he take such a step, only to then be forced into departing from the child forever?

Another viscous sob escaped from the young brunet, pulling Percival back into the present and allowing him to focus on what had just been said to him. "Newbie… Do you really think that me missing…me missing Ben means that you're not allowed to miss him either?"

"I don't know…I don't –"

"It doesn't, kid. Just watching you two, I could…I could tell from the start; you formed something, and you have more than every right in this god forsaken world to be upset right now."

Another cry escaped from the boy currently curled against his middle. "You're not mad at me then…? You don't think…you don't think I'm selfish?"

There was something in the hesitance of that question; the quiet tone in which it was spoken – the hidden plea – that broke whatever doubt was left within the older man from doing what it was he really wanted. Slowly, and just a bit awkwardly, Percival drew up his arms, wrapping them around the still crying form of his…of his what? "You're not selfish, Jonathan. In fact…in fact, you're incredibly self_less._ You're the first person I've met since Benjamin who I've ever thought that about."

"Really…?"

Percival felt his arms wrap tighter around the kid, his sobs finally quieting to mere sniffles. "Yeah, kid…really."

--

Before leaving the young brunet to clean himself up, the older man had instructed him to meet him out on the main deck when he was done and ready to emerge. When he finally did come out, his eyes were still puffy and his cheeks rather flushed, but the trails of tears were washed away, and the boy had even managed to make his hair look a little less disheveled. "You wanted me to meet you here…?" he asked quietly.

"No need for whispering, Newbie. And yeah, I wanted you to meet me here because we're going for a walk. Now come."

Percival turned to leave, though not as sharply as he would have on any other occasion. He surprised himself by even slowing down his pace so that the kid would have less trouble keeping up with his usually long strides.

Once they were off of _the Sacred Heart_ and amidst the crowds of the town, Percival could sense rather than see that Jonathan had quickened his speed; making sure he was standing much closer to the person that was currently leading the way.

The older man doubted that JD was afraid of the town itself, but he was, in fact, leading him to a spot he hadn't taken him to before. And seeing as how the kid's past had a bad history in terms of getting lost in crowds, well…he couldn't really blame the lad for drawing close.

Besides…even _he_ wasn't particularly familiar with the small little stand in which he was leading him to. It wasn't exactly a common place for pirates to tread. Most people in the practice of piracy – Captain or no – didn't usually spend money on such a seemingly pointless thing.

When the older man came to his destination, he could see the boy look up at him out of the corner of his eye, clearly surprised at what it was they were doing. But as soon as the surprise came, it left; leaving a soft, understanding in its wake.

"Can I help you…?" the elderly woman asked, rather shocked that she was getting any sort of business in a town inhabited mainly by pirates.

"Roses, if you have them," Percival answered at once. "White ones would be preferable."

--

Back on board _the Sacred Heart_, both pirates stood in silence, staring at what the two of them had just got finished creating.

The railing in which Ben had fallen from was now covered in white rose pedals, along with the only few candles that had been stored away in Percival's cabin. He had lit them all, one by one, the wax of the candles white as well. It was still light out, and the glow from the flickering flames attracted no one other than their own, quiet forms.

But that was alright. In fact, in a way that he couldn't really identify, it was rather perfect.

The wind, soft and tender, blew against the pedals and made the light of the candles flicker. Not a one of them blew out though, and when a couple of said pedals were picked up by the wind to land delicately on the surface of the ocean, well…that was alright too.

And beneath the sound of the wind and the gentle waves of the sea, both pirates could hear the low, rhythmic hum from the band that had played during their last stay at port. It was a soothing melody, one neither of them had ever heard before, but it wasn't a sad one either. Their seemed to be life within its tune; an awakening of sorts. And as the tune of that life was carried to them by the sea soaked air, a feeling hit them both at once; a simultaneous understanding that went unspoken, yet it was a realization that was undeniably understood:

They were going to be alright.

--

Back inside the cabin, Percival went about putting Ben's paintings away. It was an admittedly hard task to do, but he would rather them be tucked away in his desk, safe and unscathed, than have them out of its protective linen to be eventually covered by dust.

In the corner of the room, Jonathan sat quietly. He was staring off into space again, but there was no head tilt or creative spark going on beneath those curious, blue eyes. He looked contemplative. Sad, even. Well, he couldn't blame him for that. Most people were sad after a funeral. (Or something like it, anyway) But something felt different here, and Percival couldn't help but wonder if that's what was really troubling him at the moment.

He didn't have to wonder for long.

"Captain…?"

"Yeah, Newbie, what is it?"

"…Why did you rescue me?"

Percival, who had just finished re-wrapping the last painting and tucking it away, turned around to look at him, expression quizzical. "'Why did I rescue you?'"

Jonathan turned away for a moment, an embarrassed blush spreading through his features. "I…never mind. It's…it's stupid."

The older man rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, but not before giving his nose a solid flick. "Too late, Newbie. You just dived in head first, so now you're obligated to tell me what it is in that imaginative head of yours that has you so obviously concerned."

"I just…when did you realize that I was…that I was a kid? Was it when you first spotted me?"

"To be perfectly honest with you Newbie, it was…it was Ben who originally spotted you. He pointed you out and I…I just ran into action, if that's what you want to call it."

JD's eyes popped at this new piece of information. "Really…?"

"Really. Now does that answer whatever question you were getting ready to ask?"

"Not really, no…"

"Oh good God, Newbie, what is it?"

"Did you, um…"

"C'mon, kid, we don't have all day. Just spit it out, will you? You know I won't -"

"DidyouonlyrescuemebecauseIwasalittlekidlikeyourson?"

Percival stopped. Did he just…did he just ask what he think he did…? "I'm sorry there, Newbie, but you're gonna have to repeat that at a pace that actual people can understand. Now…what did you just say?"

"I-I said…did you only rescue me because I was a kid…? A kid like…like your…"

So he had heard right.

"Listen to me Jonathan, and listen to me very closely."

The seriousness in his tone surprised even himself, and it obviously surprised the kid as well, because he was now looking up at him, fully alert and clearly, clearly anxious.

"You were never a replacement. Ever. I love my son. I've always loved my son. And you can damn sure bet I think about him every single day. You're not a replacement because nobody _can_ replace him. He was my son, Newbie, but don't think for a second, and I mean for a _second_, that anybody can replace you either. You're you. He's him. I don't know how else to put it, but let me tell you something Jonathan – your life was never a mere shadow of what I'd lost. Your life was…your life is something that I don't want to loose _again._ Do you understand me? And for the record, I would have saved you no matter what; whether you were a man my age or someone as air-headed as Blondie. No matter what."

Jonathan was staring at him now, blue eyes wide with hesitant relief. Yes, he could see it – the kid wanted to believe him more than anything else in the world, but there was a faint hint of doubt there. Damn it, what was he supposed to say? How could he make him understand?

He could tell him, of course…he could tell him the entire truth of his stay at the bar; when the kid had first walked in and Carla had pulled him away… "I didn't think you were coming back."

Jonathan, who had been looking away while clearly trying to conjure up the right thing to say, looked back at him silently, perplexed by the older man's seemingly sudden statement. "'Coming back?' Coming back where?"

Percival silently cursed himself for blurting out yet another thing he had planned on keeping secret. What the hell was wrong with him? "Carla…she'd been talking to me about what had happened. I wasn't looking at her; was just barely paying attention. But her voice slowed down and she told me she'd be right back. I didn't turn around to follow where she was headed; didn't think I cared. But then I heard her say your name, and I…I knew you were standing there, watching me like that. And by God, Jonathan, the only thing I could think of was 'It's going to happen all over again.' You know now, kid, you know – my son was taken away because of the very same damn thing, so when Carla pulled you away…there was no malice in her actions, but I felt it; I felt like my life was on repeat, but instead of doing the opposite, I just went about doing the exact same thing. So when you _did_ come back, it finally struck me that… God, Newbie, what in the hell do you want me to _say!?"_

Jonathan visibly winced, causing the older man's insides to twist. Shit. He hadn't meant to yell at the kid, it just –

"I'm sorry."

Percival quirked an eyebrow. "For what exactly…?"

"For doubting you; even for a second. Not…not you exactly. No, I never doubted _you._ Never doubted that you'd do anything in your power to save another human being, or that…or that you didn't actually care, somehow… I just… I'm sorry, Captain."

"Newbie, I'm going to tell you something that may come as a shock to you. You ready?"

JD nodded.

"You're _eleven._ Eleven, kid. Eleven years old. Nothing you've said requires an apology. They're doubts that people older and less experienced than you would have had even before now, so listen to me; listen to the thing I've been asking you to do since the very beginning: Stop apologizing so much. There's just no need for it."

"Aye, Captain."

Percival flicked his nose. "Good lad. Now…"

The Captain walked over to his supply chest, rummaging through it for only a second before turning back around.

Percival grinned at the kid's own smile once he realized what it was he was holding; the small piece of sharpened metal that had been abandoned over a week ago. "You know they're going to be back soon. May as well make myself presentable."

--

It was Christopher who she'd found and told first. The Captain's usual seat at the bar had been empty since yesterday. Where was he now? They had searched through out the town, and had been successful in terms of gathering the rest of the crew, but still, none of them had seen where he'd gone off to.

It wasn't until they happened upon a stand, which not a one of them had been to before, did they get the information they'd been looking for all day.

"Your Captain, you say? Well, he was a little disheveled, but he held the air of a leader, that's for sure. Certainly didn't seem like your every day pirate though, I'll tell you that. Thing is, he was with a young lad. Now, does that make any sort of sense? Oh, it does? Interesting crew, you have there... Oh, what did they buy? Roses. Lots of white roses. But why does that matter? Ah, I see. My condolences. Anyway, they were heading for the docks when they left here. Hope that helps, and spread the word, you young scallywags. I have the prettiest flowers in all of town!"

--

The sun was setting when they finally came upon the ship. The crew – plus Carla and Elliot – had been expecting something along the lines of tattered sails and broken floorboards. An anguished Captain and a used-to-be-cabin-boy in tears. Such negative thinking wasn't common among the crew, but after the last week or so, well…it was hard to think so positively...

But what they saw when they got there seemed to send a wave of relief through all of them; the image before them a reassurance that every single one of them had desperately needed.

Captain Percival – decked in fresh clothes, a tricorn hat, and his sword resting contently against his side – stood standing at the wheel; clean shaven. It appeared he'd been polishing it, but when they turned the corner to look up at him from the docks, he turned to where they stood and scowled. "Took you long enough, didn't it? Well we're sure as hell not setting sail tonight. Too late to start. But I'll be damned if we're not gonna at least start getting ready. Blondie, how about you go back to that establishment of yours and pick us up some food? Don't get huffy; I'm talking all of us here, you included. Carla, maybe you want to help her out so she doesn't spit in my rum. And the rest of you peons can either stand their gawking or come on board and actually, gee, I don't know, do your job? What, you expect me and the kid to do all the work by ourselves? Now move! Move, move, move!"

Carla watched as they scampered this way and that; never more excited to have their Captain barking orders at them.

It wasn't until her eyes landed on the figure that sat right by the wheel - right where the Captain had been standing just before - did the warm smile really spread across her face.

Jonathan seemed to sense her stare. He looked up from patching the sails and caught her eye, a soft, understanding smile gracing his features and matching her own.

_**A/N:**__ Once again guys, I really appreciate all of your feedback so far. I plan on kicking my own butt into action to get back in the game here, and I apologize that this chapter wasn't as long as it's previous ones either. Hopefully, by the time next week rolls around, I'll be back on track. Well, that's about it from me. Until next time!_


	13. Chapter XIII

_**A/N: **__Hey, guys! First off, let me just thank you all for the wonderful feedback and encouragement so far. I know last time I was rather worried, and you guys were really patient with me, so thank you for that. :) Anyway, I'll keep this author's note (for once) nice and short. Just an update as far as this story's length goes: I was originally going to have this be twenty chapters long, but my chapters were shorter when I first drew up the outline/time line. This story is going to now have fifteen chapters. So yes…seems we're pretty close to the end here. (Can you believe it?) Anyway, that's about it from me. Hope you enjoy the next chapter!_

_**Side Note:** I'm updating this a little early tonight because my internet connection is sort of off again on again right now, and I'd rather get it up early than late. Anyway, hope that works for you guys. :)_

_**Disclaimer:**__ I own a very large nothing._

**Chapter XIII:**

"_In the cathedrals of New York and Rome, there is a feeling that you should just go home, and spend a life time finding out just where that is."_

_-Cathedrals, by Jump Little Children-_

Jonathan let go of the women who were embracing him, one arm around each of them while the two had been sandwiching the boy between their goodbye hug.

"Be careful," Carla half whispered, combing back a stray lock of the lad's brown hair and tucking it behind his ear. "I'm going to worry about you men more than ever, now…"

JD blushed at being referred to as a man before shaking his head. "We'll be okay. The Captain's back, and…and Kelso's dead, so…"

"Just take care of yourself, okay?" Elliot chimed in then.

Carla nodded in agreement, her eyes growing a little sad as she prepared for what it was she was about to say next. "Truth is…truth is, well, you know… You're on your way home now, and we might not see you again, so…take care of yourself, Jonathan. Have a good life, and do whatever it is that makes you happy. And maybe, one day, you could even come back and see us..."

Jonathan swallowed. He hadn't known the two waitresses nearly as long as the crew of _the Sacred Heart_, but he couldn't help the small ache of pain that swelled in his chest upon hearing them say goodbye. JD reached forward to hug them one more time, nodding as he did so. "I will. Take care of myself, I mean. And I'll come back, too. I will. Just remember me, okay? And promise me you'll take good care of yourselves too, alright?"

The girls nodded, Elliot's blue eyes welling up while Carla looked down on him with motherly concern. "Bye, sweetie," she spoke softly.

"Bye."

The two waitresses watched as Jonathan boarded _the Sacred Heart._ It wasn't until Carla made eye contact with Percival, his green-blue eyes looking into her own, did she smile and walk away; his unspoken thank you received.

--

"It feels strange…being out here again. I mean, I know we were only at port for a week or something, but wow…"

Jonathan nodded at Christopher's comment. The two of them were swabbing the upper deck, much to the older pirate's displeasure and the used-to-be-cabin-boy's delight. (It was Jonathan's first time cleaning the deck, and he felt more privileged at being trusted to do so rather than disgruntled at given the work) "I know what you mean," he finally answered. And it was true. JD _did_ know what Turk meant, but the words remained unspoken, simply in that it didn't need to be said aloud to be understood.

It was weird having things back to normal without Benjamin there with them.

A lump formed in the young lad's throat, but he swallowed it down. The first mate's presence was still extremely and undeniably missed, and yet…and yet Jonathan didn't feel as though he was about to be swallowed by an endless hole of misery. The private memorial he and the Captain had held for him only yesterday seemed to have helped them both. So had his hour in solitude with Ben's paintings, as well as the Captain letting him cry into his chest…

Jonathan smiled a little. He had hated himself so much for crying like that in front of him originally, and when the Captain had put his arms around him, it hadn't even clicked. Yet when he was leaning against him, his sobs slowly turning into quiet sniffles here and there, it had hit him like a ton of bricks. Captain Percival was hugging him!

He hadn't realized until that moment how much he'd really been _craving_ for that kind of gesture. Even before…even before Ben's departure… Yes, even before Ben's departure, he'd wanted that, and yet the thought of something like that of a hug never _really_ penetrated his mind. But God, it had felt so wonderful to be comforted by him; to have someone let him _cry_ like that. To have someone that, for the first time in his life, actually seemed to give a damn about helping him through. Sure, the Captain was never what he imagined when he had longed for a father figure – he was rough around the edges and had more than just a tendency to be callous. He went on rants and had no problem letting people know he was angry.

And yet, despite all these flaws, Jonathan honestly could not think of anyone he admired more; could not think of anyone other than Percival in terms of what he had always longed for.

Because even when he got angry, there was always a hint of care. It was hard to see for most, as it was usually hidden behind the wall Percival had so carefully built up for himself, but it was there. Sometimes you had to tilt your head and squint, but it was undeniably present.

But unfortunately, that just made his current situation worse.

Finally, Jonathan had somebody to look up to. Finally, after years of hoping and wishing and praying, he had somebody in his life who he _truly_ felt cared about him. Finally, _finally_, he'd been given the father figure that he had so desperately craved for, for years.

And yet, sooner than later, it was all going to be taken away from him.

Damn it! _Damn it!_ Damn his conscious and damn his guilt. Damn his worrying and damn the fact that he just couldn't bring himself to stay where he really wanted to stay; where he felt as though he actually _belonged._

But, God – he couldn't help it! No, he had never been close with his family. And no, they weren't what one would describe as "Supportive," but that didn't mean he didn't love them, and that didn't mean that _they_ didn't love _him_ either.

He would never forget the look of horror that crossed over his mother's face when Kelso's crew had invaded their town; the way she had clung to both him and Daniel protectively. "My boys, my boys," she had whispered, quickly putting on their jackets and leading them out of the house with the rest of the town, "They can take anything but my boys…"

Nor would he ever forget the feel of Dan's hand when he had slipped from his grasp and awoken from his daydream. He hadn't been able to see him; he'd emerged just a second too late for that. But the feel of his older brother's hand – gripping tightly and desperately before the crowd finally separated them both; the faint cry he had heard upon them breaking apart – God, he would never forget that. There was more love in that gesture than he had ever received from the older Dorian before, and he clung to that moment like a life line.

And yet he knew the order of things that would happen upon his arrival. Knew his mother and brother would embrace him; he would feel relieved to see them and them in turn, but it wouldn't be long until the roles of their lives fell back into their disheveled positions. Mom would take off to the local inn with whatever new sailor came strolling into town, while Dan was left to "look after," his little brother. And if "look after," meant completely leaving him alone, well then he was very, very good at that.

"Damn it," Jonathan muttered, his thoughts getting the better of him.

Turk looked up from swabbing the deck to stare at him; wide eyed and clearly shocked. "Wow!"

Jonathan looked up now too, obviously startled by the bald pirate's declaration. "What…?"

"You swore! I've never heard you swear before." Suddenly, Christopher was grinning. "You're becoming a real pirate, you know that?"

JD blushed, his earlier embarrassment over swearing now turning into that of bittersweet praise. It felt great hearing those words from Turk, yet he knew his life as a pirate was to be over in no time at all.

The truth of the matter was, it wasn't the life of piracy itself he would miss. It was being with the people he had come to know and love. God, he would partake in _any_ field of work if it meant he'd be able to remain with the people he considered his real family. Well, okay…he didn't find the idea of cleaning up cow manure extremely attractive, but if the Captain had ever decided to take up farming, would he do it? The answer was a definite yes. And besides, maybe he could make their farm unlike any other. They'd have more than just cows and sheep and horses, they'd have – Oh! What if he discovered the first real live unicorn? What if he discovered _two?_ He'd make them mate and then they'd have a unicorn farm! And he wouldn't mind shoveling their manure as much, certainly not. After all – he couldn't imagine a unicorn's droppings being as unpleasant as other animals'. In fact, maybe if they used their droppings for gardening crops rather than your every day cows, they'd grow healthier and even more beautiful. They could plant flowers and –

"Woo-hoo! JD! You in there, buddy?"

Jonathan instantly startled, blinking as he came back to reality. "They'd smell like apple pies, I bet…"

"I…sure…? Anyway, you were mopping the same spot for the last three minutes. You alright…?"

"Huh? Oh yeah, Turk, I'm fine. I'm just thinking too much, I guess…"

"Well, I can't say I blame you… You know…Doug is ringing the bell for dinner tonight. Whaddya' say we sneak down a minute early and get a head start in line?"

JD grinned; a feeling of mischievous play taking over him that he hadn't felt there in weeks. "Definitely!"

--

Jonathan didn't even look at the food that had been served to him before plowing into his meal. _God_ he was hungry! Well, he hadn't eaten all too much since, well…since everything had taken place… But now his stomach craved food more than ever, and the young brunet was more than willing to comply.

When he finally looked up from his plate to take a breather, he was startled to find the table's occupants staring at him. Turk's eyes were round with shock, while Doug looked almost frightened by the boy's appetite. After another moment of awkward silence, Todd raised his hand in a still slightly stunned fashion. "Love the grub five…?"

JD blushed furiously. What was the big deal…? Still, it made him uncomfortable to have so many eyes on him. It was right after that thought did he feel a familiar gaze staring at him from the line of food being served.

Jonathan turned towards where the Captain was currently standing, surprised to see that even _his_ eyes appeared wider than usual. He was even more surprised, however, when they morphed from shocked to amused; a small, knowing grin making its way across his features. After a small laugh that would have been hard to catch by most, Percival turned away from Jonathan and out of the galley.

"W-What was that about?" Doug stuttered nervously.

But Turk was grinning now too. His expression didn't appear as knowing as the Captain's had, but it seemed to be coming to a conclusion of some sort. "Huh…" he finally managed.

"What…?" JD asked, ignoring the fact that his face was only turning brighter.

"Nothing, buddy," Christopher answered, a small smile still tugging at the corner of his lips. "Don't worry about it."

JD turned back to his food, oddly hurt over not being told what it was that was so hilarious. But his hurt was soon forgotten as he delved back into his meal; appetite not yet satisfied.

--

A week had passed, and Jonathan found himself lying out on the main deck, staring up at the stars and praying to anyone who would listen to come and help him; to come and show him the right path to take. He was miserable, and he knew why, too.

Tonight was his last night aboard _the Sacred Heart_.

Percival had made the announcement five nights ago during dinner. The winds were and had been in perfect sailing condition, helping guide the vessel straight towards his small, weary town. There was no going back now. He was almost home; no ifs, ands, or buts about it.

_But this _is_ home!_ his mind shouted at him. It didn't matter though. JD knew that this was the end of his journey. His conscious would not allow him to stay on board and let him live out his life while his family remained in fear as to where he currently was. No, this was it. He'd have to say goodbye tomorrow afternoon. He'd have to leave – leave Turk, his crewmates, and…and the Captain all behind… Oh, God, not the Captain…

Jonathan brought the palms of his hands to his eyes, gritting his teeth in the process. He tried hard not to cry, but much to his horror, he heard a desperate sob escape him. He didn't want to leave; not even a little.

--

Percival sat in his cabin. Or rather, he laid there. His back was against the mattress and his hands were crossed behind his head; blue-green eyes staring up at his ceiling, clearly in turmoil.

He'd invited the kid to take rest in his cabin that night. He'd even gone ahead and pulled out the extra cot, assuming the lad would have been more than eager to accept. Hell, he even made up some bull shit excuse about it being too cold to sleep out on the main deck where the kid normally set up his hammock. But Jonathan had just stared at the floorboards, shifting awkwardly while still managing to look extremely tempted at taking up his offer.

"No, um…no thanks, Captain. I, um…I already set up my hammock, so…so no thanks. But…but thank you anyway…"

The kid had turned so fast then, managing only to trip on his feet on the way out.

This thought actually stirred the Captain out of his current contemplating, allowing a small grin to play across his face. The boy had always been clumsy, but now, due to a perfectly natural turn of events, he was becoming even clumsier. Poor kid had no idea what was going on… The older man had thought about explaining it to him in the beginning, but when he was perfectly honest with himself, it was a hell of a funny thing to watch. Well, he'd tell the kid whenever he asked. There was no way that Jonathan's curiosity over the situation wouldn't eventually –

Of course, it was this thought that pulled the Captain right back into his fury over the current situation. Even if Jonathan _did_ eventually decide to question what was taking place, it wouldn't matter. He'd be in his home town, far away from the sea and _the Sacred Heart._ Far away from him.

God, what was _wrong_ with him!? There was no denying it any more – Percival had been fathering the kid since day one. Maybe back then, he could've written it off as looking at the kid like a patient in need of special care. It would have been easy enough, what with him having been a physician and the fact that Jonathan really_ had _been a patient upon first meeting him, but it wasn't that anymore, and he knew it. And the worse part was that he was pretty damn sure that the kid knew it too. So who was going to be the one to say it out loud?

That thought only made the older man want to punch himself in the face. What did he mean, _who?_ It had to be him! He was the Captain, damn it! Jonathan was the kid here. He couldn't expect the lad to tell him what it was he really wanted. Okay, sure…there was a grand majority of kids who were, in fact, like that, but Newbie wasn't. He was different. Mature for his age, but still innocent; not at all selfish. So it was up to him. He had to go out there and invite him to remain with them on the ship. He had to go out there and – No. No. That wasn't the answer either, and he knew it… He was the Captain. That did not mean it was his job to act on _his_ selfish desires. No. It meant that it was his job to do what was right for those around him, not what was right – or what he wanted – for himself. It was his job, as the Captain and the adult, to bring Jonathan back home, safe and sound. Back to his family; back to where he belonged.

But that didn't mean he was going to lie there and not check up on the kid, at least once…

Without a moment's hesitation, mainly so that he wouldn't talk himself out of it, Percival stood from his bed and marched over to the cabin door. He opened it rather abruptly, but stopped short when he saw the kid lying on his back; palms covering his eyes as a lone sob escaped him. The older man swallowed. "Newbie…"

--

"Newbie…"

His voice was barely above a whisper, but Jonathan jumped all the same. He wiped at his eyes frantically, but not before almost tripping as he did so. "C-Captain!" Jonathan blushed furiously when his voice cracked in the process. (That had been happening so much lately!) He looked away in a hurry, causing him to miss the little grin that tugged on the corner of Percival's mouth.

By the time he looked back up, however, the smirk was gone. Percival was once again looking at him; expression indifferent but eyes thoughtful. What was going on threw his Captain's head, he wondered?

"Jonathan – you're not going to hear me ask this a lot, even if…even if you weren't going home tomorrow, but seeing as it's your last night here…" Percival paused to breathe, as if prepping himself for something extremely hard to say. "Are you okay?" he finally exhaled.

JD's stomach twisted nervously. This was it. This was the opportunity he'd been waiting for. The perfect moment to tell him what he really wanted. _Turn the ship around! To wherever, I don't care! Just don't drop me off. Take me with you and show me everything. Everything that Benjamin wanted to, and that you wanted to too! Right…? And even if you didn't, that doesn't matter. I'll work! I'll work just as hard as everybody else, so please, Captain, please! I can't stand the idea of going back; of leaving you... Please, Captain, just…please! Take me with you._

But his thoughts stayed hidden as speech escaped him. All except those four words that strung themselves together in a more than obvious lie: "Yes, Captain. I'm fine."

Jonathan thought he saw Percival's shoulders sag, but they were up and in place in only half a second later, leaving him with the realization that his mind had created only what he wanted to see…

"Ah," Percival finally responded. "If you're okay then… Good night, Jonathan."

The older man turned towards his cabin, causing instant panic to rise within the young lad's chest. No! He didn't want him to leave. Not yet, please! They had so little time together; he had to take advantage of it! God, why had he been so stupid? Why hadn't he taken him up on the offer of resting peacefully inside of his cabin? His mind was screaming at him now: _Say something, anything! Say anything to keep him here._ "How did Kelso become a pirate?"

Percival turned around to stare at him; the question so random and out of place that even he couldn't hide his initial shock from being asked. "What was that, Newbie?"

Jonathan inwardly cursed himself. It _was_ a question he had been wondering about since finding out Percival's past. After all…if Kelso had succeeded in his goal to drive the Captain out of town in order to keep his job, then how in turn did he end up as a pirate himself? Still, in JD's desperation to come up with something to say, it had been the first thing to come to mind. Unfortunately for him, it had absolutely nothing to do with their current conversation (or lack thereof, rather) nor was Kelso, of all people, the person he wanted to think and or talk about during his last night aboard the vessel. "I, um…I was wondering why…"

"Calm down, kid, it's fine. The question was admittedly the most bizarre thing I've heard all night, including Todd's earlier declaration that he was on a mission to invent thee most popular gesture in the world, but other than that, it's fine. If you wanted an answer to your question though…I can't."

Jonathan looked at him then, suddenly much more curious over a topic he hadn't even meant to bring up. "You can't…?"

"No," Percival answered, a frustrated hand combing through his curly, red hair. "I can't. I can't because I've wondered on more occasions than I care to remember _how, _exactly,did Kelso get branded to a life of piracy? What he did to me…well, I've already told you, so you know the out come – he succeeded in driving me out. I'd assumed for the longest time that he was back at that old building, 'curing' those in need.

"But the first time I heard that he was out at sea was about a year after being banned myself. I heard rumblings of a ship called, '_The Fractured Enid.'_ It took me a while to remember why the name 'Enid' sounded so familiar, as it's not what you'd refer to as a common name. But then I remembered Beelzebub's wife. A crippled woman who, if there really was anybody on this earth who hated him more than I did, well…she would damn sure be a runner up for the title. Her name, as I'm sure you've guessed, was Enid. Seems Kelso loved his ship more than his wife, but that doesn't surprise me in the least…

"And then I started hearing of all the things he was doing with his so called crew – the towns he was invading, the lives he was destroying… There was no doubt in my mind that it was him. And yet the first time I saw him was when…was during the battle. That was the first time I saw him since he set me up."

Jonathan felt guilt rise within him. God, if he hadn't been so desperate in keeping the older man with him, he wouldn't have shouted out the first thing that came to mind, and he most definitely wouldn't have brought up what was obviously a difficult conversation to openly discuss. "I'm sorr –"

"Newbie! What did I tell you about all the damn apologizing? Do you honestly think I'd tell you that if I didn't really want to? Geez, kid, give me a break, will ya'?"

Jonathan could feel the tips of his ears turning pink, but he couldn't help the small smile that was currently taking over his expression. Something like that would've shocked him to no end in the beginning of his journey, but now, he was able to sense the meaning behind the older man's words; what it was he was really trying to say. "Aye, Captain," he answered faintly, smile still in place.

Percival chose to ignore the grin and instead go about crossing his arms in front of his chest, flicking his nose before doing so. "Good. Now – there's an empty cot in my cabin that I'm guessing you're actually pretty damn eager to use, so you coming in or what?"

Jonathan bobbed his head eagerly, both surprised and excited for the second invite. "Aye, Captain!" he answered with more enthusiasm than before. He didn't make it to the cabin, however, before a very loud grumbling interrupted the stillness of the night. Jonathan stood awkwardly by the door of his Captain's room, wondering how many times in one evening he could turn scarlet. "I, um…"

Percival was grinning at him again; that same grin he'd been giving him since a week ago, when his appetite suddenly took on a whole new level. "You're hungry again, aren't you, Newbie?"

"I – yes…"

"Alright, so it's the galley first. Then sleep."

Jonathan nodded eagerly as he followed his Captain down into the galley. He had no idea how he would bring himself to step foot off of _the Sacred Heart_ when tomorrow came around, but at least, if only for tonight, he was able to spend time with his Captain.

--

When Jonathan woke up the next morning, he immediately wished that he hadn't.

This was it. This was his last day on board of_ the Sacred Heart._ This was his last morning where he would wake up and find himself in this cabin; safe, warm and content.

Yes, this was his last day. There was no turning back now.

For a while, Jonathan just laid there, hoping that sleep would again overtake him and that he could prolong his departure, but he was no fool. He knew he would eventually have to get up and leave, so wasn't it best to get up now and take advantage of the little time he had left?

It was just seconds after that thought did the morning bell ring. It was Christopher's voice that infiltrated the air this time, only causing the young boy's grief to heighten. So many people he would miss; so many people he was being forced to say goodbye to…

Slowly, JD sat up. He only rubbed at his eyes for a moment before turning around to the Captain's bed, hoping to see him rising with the morning call as well.

But he wasn't there.

Jonathan sighed. Percival was an early riser, he knew. It just would've been nice to have that first "Good morning…"

--

The older man rushed into the galley, glad he had risen with the sun. Part of him felt admittedly guilty. He knew the kid was probably going to want his presence more than ever today, but God…if he stayed around him too long, the temptation to ask him to stay onboard would undoubtedly grow, and he just wouldn't allow that. He couldn't.

But he could make sure the kid ate well before he left.

Taking longer strides than usual, Percival made his way through the still empty galley and into the back room, where the chef stood stirring a pot with obvious disinterest.

"Troy!" the red head barked.

The stout man jumped, not expecting company so early in the morning. "Captain?"

"I want you to make the food as good as you can. Take every skill you have in regards to cooking and use all of them this morning. Spice the meats, butter the bread, add sugar to whatever it calls for. Make extra portions too, you hear me? Whether it's steamed or boiled, I don't really care. Just make it good."

"Aye, Captain."

"And Troy?"

"Captain?"

"Interesting tattoo…"

"Thanks."

--

Jonathan walked into the galley, his stomach turning when he saw it was Shilling Guy who had been made the server. Uh-oh. What was going to happen now? He'd probably get close to no food. Or worse – he'd get a lot of food, but it'd be spiked with, well…he didn't really know. Nor did he want to find out.

Swallowing down a lump of nerves, JD walked up to the taller crew man and held out his plate, clearly hesitant. He wasn't the least bit surprised when Shilling Guy gave him a small scowl, withdrawing the ladle he'd been using to stare down at him menacingly. "What, no thank you? Just gonna hold out your plate and hope for the best, huh? You think because I'm a pirate, I don't even deserve a 'Good morning?'"

JD honestly didn't know what came over him. Maybe it was because, after months of being onboard with them all, the nameless crew man had yet to put a stop to whatever obvious vendetta he had against him. He hadn't even _tried_ to get to know him. Maybe, for one reason or another, he thought that since it was his last day there, the guy would cut him some slack. But something angry stirred at the base of his stomach, causing his eyes to narrow in obvious frustration as he stared back up at Shilling Guy, doing his best to pull off an intimidating expression. "I don't disrespect you! You helped save my life, and all I ever tried to do was thank you for it! And why _would_ I disrespect you, by the way? I'm a pirate too! Or at least…sort of. Kind of. I don't really know… But still! I never did anything to you! Leave me alone already!"

There was a silence between the two pirates that seemed to last forever, the line behind Jonathan oblivious to the exchange that had just taken place. JD swallowed. Oh no. What had he _done_!?

But Shilling Guy was suddenly grinning, and for one reason or another, it wasn't nearly as horrifying as his smirks normally appeared. "There it is! Was wondering when you were finally gonna say it! Good job."

The brunet could only stare wide eyed as the tallest of the crew men went about serving him his breakfast. The used-to-be-cabin-boy shook his head suddenly, trying to find the proper words for some kind of coherent response. "I…what?" Alright, so he didn't do too well on the coherent part, but at least he got his point across.

Shilling Guy handed him his plate of food, stuffing his hands into his pockets and looking for all the world like he had just won a great victory. "I was wondering when you were going to stick up for yourself. Took you long enough, but I'm glad you did."

"I – wait. So all this time…?"

"It was a test of character. I wanted to see if you would defend yourself. Truth is, you can't really survive out here if you're ready to let people walk all over you."

"I, um…"

"You're welcome! Have fun eating."

Jonathan took his plate and left for his table, too baffled by what had just happened to say anything else. It wasn't until he actually sat down did a slow, understanding smile take over his expression.

Sure wasn't the goodbye he had expected from the crew man, but it beat the usual mannerisms that was Shilling Guy, that was for sure.

--

From the railing of the main deck did young Jonathan Dorian watch his town come into view.

It was a bittersweet feeling, really. No, he hadn't missed his home to the extent of wanting to return, but it was, after all, the town in which he grew up in. It was good to see it standing in one piece; looking calm in its little set up rather than the chaotic mess he had last seen it in…

But he could not deny the overwhelming sadness that took hold of him as the ship drew closer to port, the other crewmates going about their tasks as if it was just any other day. Well of course, they had to. _The Sacred Heart_ couldn't steer itself into port now, could it?

Jonathan turned his attention over to the wheel, where the Captain stood guiding the ship; tricorn hat pulled down unusually low, making it hard to see the older man's expression. Would Percival miss him when he left…?

A small tap on the shoulder caused him to turn around. He tried not to well up upon seeing Christopher, his smile small and sad as he stared at the brunet in front of him. "Looks like this is it, huh little buddy?"

Jonathan couldn't even pretend not to care. He jumped up from the railing and threw his arms around Turk's middle. "Thank you so much," he mumbled loud enough for him to hear. "I was so scared about leaving the cabin when I first came here. I was so scared that only the Captain and Benjamin would like me, but you stepped right in and made me feel really…welcomed. Wanted. Thank you."

Turk hugged him back, pulling his friend just a little closer as he allowed Jonathan to get out that one, final hug. "I was just relieved to see you were okay. I saw you when the Captain first brought you on board, and just…damn. You scared me when you first woke up like that; didn't know you were watching me. But more than that, I was just…I was relieved."

The two pulled away from each other; Turk managing to keep his composure while JD's eyes were filling to the brim. "I'm gonna miss you, buddy," Christopher said finally. "You take care of yourself."

"Yeah," he finally answered. "You too. …Oh, and Turk?"

"Yeah?"

"The next time you see Carla and Elliot, will you tell them I said hi?"

Christopher smiled. "You bet."

--

Jonathan had been standing by the railing when the vessel finally pulled into port. But not just any railing.

Ben's railing.

He'd stayed away from it as much as humanly possible since the first mate's departure, but now he stood as close to it as he could, eyes glazed with tears as he reached out; careful, hesitant finger tips grazing the wood on which he had lost someone very dear. "Bye, Ben," he whispered softly. "I know if you were here right now, you'd send me off with a bang. I don't think you would want me to go, but you'd sure know how to do it. You'd be laughing too, but only to make us laugh, wouldn't you? Yeah…I know you would. Thank you, Benjamin. You were…you were amazing."

Jonathan inhaled slowly, drawing his hand back to his side and clutching the hilt of his sword. His sword. He highly doubted he'd end up needing it again, but he just couldn't bear to part with it. It was a gift made especially for him; a gift from his Captain…

"Newbie."

Jonathan turned slowly then, noting vaguely that the older man's hat was still pulled down uncharacteristically low. "Captain…?"

"Your town's not exactly pirate friendly. Can't say I blame them, but the truth of the matter is that we don't have a lot of time to sit here and blabber on about this or that. Someone will eventually notice the Jolly Roger waving up there, and I'd ra-_heely_ rather avoid the unnecessary battle, so let's go kid; time for you to go home."

Jonathan swallowed, trying not to blanch as he did so. Was that…it? Well of course that was it. What did he expect? He knew that they had to go soon; it was the logical route to take. And he knew that they wouldn't be waiting around for nothing once they got there. So why did he feel so disappointed? Why did he feel like he'd just been punched in the gut?

The brunet closed his eyes, willing the tears to go away. Did Percival not care that he was leaving at _all?_ No, he knew that wasn't true. The older man obviously cared. All that had happened…he had to care, didn't he? But either way, it didn't matter. The Captain had a job to do. And he did it. He brought him home.

End of story.

"Aye, Captain," he finally answered, hoping it only sounded like a choked reply to his own ears.

The Captain gave a tight nod, walking him over in silence to where the ship met the dock. Jonathan stopped then, thinking that, just maybe, Percival would at least walk him out onto the dock itself.

But the Captain remained where he was, looking on at him with what appeared to be fixed indifference.

"I…Captain?"

"Newbie?"

"B-Bye… And, um…and thank you, for…for saving me. For saving my life. And just…for everything. Thank you."

There was a pause, in which Jonathan thought that, for whatever reason, his words had offended him. But then very clearly, though his tone sounded oddly restrained, the older man spoke. "You're welcome, Jonathan. You have a…you have a good life, there."

"Y-You too…Captain…"

And before the tears could completely take over, Jonathan turned away. Away from _the Sacred Heart,_ away from the crew, away from Turk, and away – far away – from Captain Percival; the man he had come to love as his father.

The man he was never going to see again.

It wasn't until Jonathan was sure that the Captain would not hear him did he allow himself to cry.

_**A/N:**__ Bad way to leave off, I know. I had actually meant for this chapter to be more light hearted than it's previous ones, but I guess I sort of ruined that with the ending there. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless. Only two more chapters to go. I can hardly believe it myself, to be honest. Anyway, guess that's about it from me. Until next time!_


	14. Chapter XIV

_**A/N: **__Hey, guys! Well, as always, let me first start off by saying thank you for all of the encouragement you've given me so far. Your feedback means a lot to me, I assure you, and it's always very much appreciated. As for this story – can you believe there's only one more chapter left after this one? I still can't, to be honest. Anyway, I really don't have much to say this time around, so I'll let you guys be to read on. I hope you enjoy the second to last chapter._

_**Disclaimer:**__ I own a very large nothing._

**Chapter XIV:**

"_And down this beaten path, and up this cobbled lane, I'm walking in my own footsteps once again."_

_-Waiting for My Real Life to Begin, by Colin Hay-_

Jonathan was a crying mess, his body shaking from the shock of it all. The tears had escaped him not long after his departure from _the Sacred Heart,_ but the realization of what had just taken place had not. But now, as the young brunet sat sobbing behind one of his town's idle farm houses, completely out of sight from onlookers, it hit him all at once.

His Captain – no, his _former_ Captain – had just dropped him off at his home town. He was never going to see him, or anyone on board of _the Sacred Heart,_ again.

Jonathan wiped at his face with his sleeve, doing his best to take deep, calming breaths. He couldn't do this right now. He had to pull himself together. His family had waited long enough for his return, and it wasn't right of him to keep them waiting any longer.

Slowly and with shaky legs, Jonathan stood from his place on the ground. He dusted off his pants and straightened his shoulders, doing his best to muster up a look of confidence. He had to be strong. He couldn't let his family's first sight of him in months be of him in such a sad state now, could he?

After another long intake of breath, Jonathan removed himself from his hiding place and out onto the open paths of his home town. It was bittersweet, walking along those trails again. Everywhere he looked, he could remember a childhood memory, yet his heart did not glow with the warmth that it should have felt upon returning home. Instead, it seemed to wither.

Still, he pressed on. The dock in which he'd gotten off at had been on the other side of town; as far away as possible from home. The brunet was grateful for that though. The walk gave him further time to clear his head and think about what it was exactly he would say and do upon seeing his family. "I'm back!" did not seem like the most proper way to go about it…

While it was true the used-to-be-cabin-boy was quite enthralled with his current musings, he could not help but notice the odd stares he was getting as he passed a number of different villagers. It took him a while to pin point the repetitive expression he kept on receiving, but it became clear to him soon enough: Uncertain familiarity. They were looking at him as if they knew his face from somewhere, yet hesitance was very clear in their curious eyes. One or two of them had even opened their mouths, as if seeing what would happen if they said his name aloud, but none of them did. Jonathan smiled at them all as they passed, but inwardly, he couldn't help but frown. It was true he hadn't spent a lot of time outdoors growing up, except for yard work and occasionally going to the docks with Dan, but did none of his community really recognize him enough to call out his name? To wave hello, even? He'd been gone for a couple of months, yes, but not _years_. What difference in one's physical appearance could a few months possibly make…?

It wasn't until he passed a local shop did he see what he hadn't seen since the night of his capture: His reflection.

The mirror hung outside of the shop's wooden door, causing Jonathan to audibly gasp. Wow…no wonder the villagers had appeared so hesitant to say his name out loud.

Wide, blue eyes stared into his own, clearly shocked by what they saw. His hair, which had been cut short before his departure, was now shaggy and disheveled, despite Elliot having had cut it during his first stay at port.

And, God – his height! He had always been short for his age, and sure…he supposed he still looked younger than he really was, but the difference in his stature was visible. He had undoubtedly grown, though his limbs appeared rather gangly in comparison to the rest of his body. Well that was weird…

His skin, too, was definitely different. Despite the annoying little bumps here and there – what were those things? – he liked what had become of his complexion. He had always been a pale kid, and perhaps, when it came to a pirate's usual tone, he still was, but he was definitely darker now; the sea's blaring sun had hit him and hit him well, leaving in it's wake an olive like shade.

Another thing he could not help but notice was the curve of his arms. Yes, his limbs appeared rather awkward, at least in comparison to the rest of his body, but there was something there that had never been there before: Jonathan had some muscle! It was slight but noticeable, and the kid just couldn't help but grin. He wasn't…he wasn't…what had it been called again…? Oh! Malnourished. He was skinny still, yes, but not sickly so. For once in his life, he had been able to eat properly, leaving him lean rather than bony, and he knew this was all thanks to the Capt –

Jonathan closed his eyes, shutting himself off from his reflection and the rest of the world. No. He wouldn't do this. Not here, not now. He had to keep on walking. He was much closer to his home now. It wouldn't be long until –

"Jonathan…? Is that…is that you…?"

The brunet turned around sharply, taken aback by the sudden intrusion of his thoughts. When he met the owner's voice, however, he was both surprised and oddly relieved to find the hesitant eyes of his neighbor looking on at him, her grey hair tied back in a messy bun as she studied him further.

"Mrs. Lewis…?"

"Oh, Jonathan! It is you! God, look how much you've grown!"

Mrs. Lewis, his long time elderly neighbor, had always treated him fair enough, yet he was surprised by her sudden embrace, not having expected such a gesture from her. Still, he returned it willingly, happy for a familiar face and happy to have finally been recognized.

It was only a matter of seconds before they pulled apart. Jonathan's face held a bittersweet smile, touched by the older woman's welcome, but whatever expression that came remotely close to something of happiness instantly vanished upon seeing the now taut expression of the woman before him.

And suddenly he remembered – realized, rather – that the uncertain familiarity he had been receiving from those who had passed him was not the only look that had been aimed in his direction. There had been other gazes along his way back; looks of sympathy. The occasional head shake here and there. He had dismissed them, not wanting to think about why or what such an appearance could mean. He had chalked it up to his anxiety, or maybe even his over active imagination. But here was that expression right in front of him now; completely and utterly undeniable.

But why?

"Mrs. Lewis…?"

The older woman was holding his hands now, looking at him woefully as she did so. "Oh, Johnny, they were so worried about you."

All hatred towards the nickname went abandoned as the single word in that sentence gave off a warning signal in his mind. "M-My family you mean, I know. I mean…I-I figured. But it's okay now, you see? I'm back. I'm on my way to see them now. I –"

"They were worried, Johnny, but I think they were happy too; happy that you weren't there to suffer like –"

There it was. That horrible, horrible word again. "I-I'm sorry, Mrs. Lewis… 'Were?' I don't…I don't understand."

"Oh, Jonathan… It was so strong, and it came out of nowhere."

"I-I'm sorry…?"

"We don't have a name for it yet; a plague of some sort, undoubtedly, but as for an actual name…"

No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no.

"It came only weeks after the cut throat's invasion; wiped out half the village. We're just now recovering from it all."

_No._ Oh God, no. Please, _please._ No, no, no, no, _no!_

"Such a strong sickness it was. Terribly strong."

NO! Please, _please!_ No, no, no, no, no, no, no –

"Oh, Jonathan, I'm so sorry. I – Ah! Where are you going? What do you think you'll - !?"

But Jonathan wasn't listening to her any more. He had ripped his hands away from her at once, his feet running faster than they had ever taken him before.

--

Dirt. Filth. Grime.

It made sense, didn't it? If whatever sickness had come only weeks after Kelso's invasion, if it had really wiped out half of the village as fast as his neighbor had made it sound like, then why on earth would the inside of his house not be covered with it all?

He stood frozen in the center of their old gathering room, where the small, little fire would burn on winter nights, allowing both he and his older brother a bit of comfort, while their mom went about warming herself up in an entirely different matter.

_"Move over! You're hogging up all the heat!"_

_"But you're closer to it than I am, Dan. That doesn't even make sense!"_

_"Fine, you can move closer. ...Hey, Johnny?"_

_"Yeah?"_

_"Are you…are you mad at mom?"_

_"I don't…I don't think so."_

_"That's answer enough."_

_"What do you mean?"_

_"That you don't think so. You don't even know anymore because truth is, you're mad at her everyday. So eventually, it just becomes a natural feeling towards her. Kind of like indifference. Don't feel bad though. That's how I feel too."_

_"I don't like that. I change my answer then, okay? I'm not mad at her."_

_"You can't change your answer. That's cheating. And yeah, you are. Maybe you're not bitter about it. Maybe you're more understanding. Maybe you're just a nicer person than me. But you are mad at her, at least a little. It doesn't have to be your most dominant emotion, but it's still there."_

_"Stop it. I don't like this conversation."_

_"…I'm sorry. You're still little. I shouldn't have said anything."_

_"I'm not little. I'm seven. Seven isn't little."_

_A laugh. "Yeah it is, little brother."_

_"And you're not much older than me anyway, so if I'm little, then you're little too."_

_"I'm ten! That's double digits! You don't even have two numbers in your age yet. Now be quiet and move over some more. You're taking up all the heat."_

_"But wouldn't it be better if we sat closer? Because that's body heat too, so then we would –"_

_"Just be quiet, Johnny."_

_"Okay…"_

Jonathan closed his eyes. He hadn't known what Dan meant back then, but now, here in this abandoned house, he knew his answer, he knew. He'd never been mad at his mother. He'd just been sad. Sad that she felt the need to do all that she had done; disappointed in her for not being able to be there for him and for Dan. Disappointed, maybe, that he and Dan hadn't been enough motivation for her to _want_ to be there.

_"My boys, my boys. They can take anything but my boys…"_

Or maybe that wasn't quite it. Maybe…maybe she just hadn't known how to handle their situation. Maybe she just hadn't known what to do.

And he so wanted to tell her that now. To tell her that he understood she was human; that she was just as lost as he and Daniel had been. He wanted to tell his brother, too, that it was okay to be upset. That it was okay to be angry. That he wouldn't hold it against him. That he still loved him, either way.

_"Maybe you're more understanding."_

Maybe. But that didn't really matter. What mattered was that he had never known how to _voice_ that understanding. Or maybe he'd just never known what words to use; how to say what it was that kept him moving onwards. But somehow, that didn't matter either. What mattered only were the words he wanted to tell them now more than ever, the words he'd come all the way back home just to let them know; the words he would never be able to tell them again.

"I love you…" it came out of him in a choked whisper, his words penetrating the stillness of the all too quiet house. But Jonathan could not contain himself any longer. Louder and louder his voice grew, flooded with tears over the silence that answered his cry. "I love you, I love you! Mom, Dan…I LOVE YOU! I _always_ loved you!"

But no one answered him. No one was going to either.

With little resistance, he let his feet carry him to where he knew they now resided, though his mind would not allow him to form the words. Not yet. He had to see them there first to allow himself the thought.

--

Decorative graves were not given to the poor, which was undoubtedly what they were: poor. They'd always been poor, but unlike Dan or his Mother, he had been okay with that. The only things he had ever desired were not bought with money.

But now, as he stood in front of their head stones and stared, he wished more than ever it could say more than just their names; more than just a date of birth and a date of…a date of death. He wanted to inscribe on them the words of his love; how much he would truly and utterly miss them.

With shaky hands, Jonathan reached into his small, dirty pouch, removing the two pieces of jewelry he had picked out especially for them during his first stay at port. He had thought them the perfect gift at the time; treasures from a place they would most likely never see.

How bone chillingly accurate he had been.

Trembling, Jonathan laid them lovingly over their headstones. "Mother…" he choked out. "Daniel…" He didn't realize he was on the ground at first. It wasn't until he was on all fours, crawling over to the space between his mother and brother's head stone, did he truly realize where he was. That, unfortunately, was when he realized the hidden horror of his predicament as a whole.

He was alone.

His blood related family had passed on. His family out at sea had undoubtedly sailed away hours ago. Selfishly – and oh, did he hate himself for it – he called out the name of another person whose presence he craved more than ever; the person whose love and comfort did he still undeniably long for. "Captain," he sobbed. "Oh, Captain…"

With another weary cry, he curled up between the two headstones, pressing his face against the side of his mother's cool grave. "I love you," he wept quietly. "I love you both so, so much. If I didn't…if I didn't love you, I would never have come back. Never have left him to see you two again. But I love you. Please rest knowing that I love you; that I'm okay. Oh, God, Mom…Daniel…"

The sun was setting now, and for the first time since he had entered his home village, Jonathan felt a very heavy, very powerful exhaustion over take him. "No," he muttered quietly, trying to fight it off. He couldn't sleep. It didn't feel right to. But he couldn't cry anymore either. He had run out of tears, at least for now. His eyes were burning and the far off sunset was oddly soothing. Everything was quiet but the soft patter of approaching footsteps. Odd, when he thought about it. Who would be here at such an hour? But he didn't care. He was too tired to; too tired to open his eyes that had just fallen against his will. Too tired to fight the sudden embrace that picked him up; adjusting him gently so that his chin rested on their owner's shoulder. Mmm…he didn't want to fight it, he realized. Those arms felt wonderful; warm and safe. But no, wait – that didn't make sense. He was with his mother and brother now, wasn't he? No, not exactly… But he was by their graves, last he checked...right? "Mom…Daniel…" he barely recognized his own whisper; his voice strained and exhausted, but the arms that held him now seemed to grasp a little tighter, one of them even starting to run smooth, comforting circles over his back. A chorus of low, familiar "Shhh's," infiltrated his battle against fighting off sleep, against fighting off unconsciousness. He dared not resist it anymore.

Sweet, sweet delirium.

--

He was in a bed.

So familiar it seemed; this feeling, this place. Hadn't this happened before? Lost, alone, caught in the middle of a catastrophe, and then suddenly here: in a place that seemed far too good to be true. Such a miracle could only happen once in a person's lifetime. To have it happen again seemed unreal; a kind of blessing he just wasn't used to receiving.

Jonathan shivered, and almost instantly, he could feel a blanket added to the one already lying on top of him. Who was this person; so kind and attentive? Who was this person watching over for him?

Everything in his being told him who it was, but the day's events would not let him believe it. If he did…if he did believe it, only to open his eyes and see the bitter realization that he was not there, oh God…he wasn't sure how much more he could handle.

"Captain…" his eyes were still closed, but he hated himself for saying the name aloud. It had escaped him like one might mutter in their sleep, and while he was still in something like that of a haze, he was undoubtedly awake. But now he had said it out loud; the person whose presence couldn't possibly be there, but who he wanted to believe was present so, so much. And now surely someone would answer: A physician, maybe, who would murmur to a nearby assistant that the patient was clearly delusional. Or maybe even Mrs. Lewis, who would lecture him for being so foolish and running away from her the way he had earlier. Someone would answer him, and in doing so, shatter his last bit of hope. Someone would answer him and –

"Jonathan."

Oh, God.

The boy's eyes opened at once, his chest moving up and down in obvious shock. Had he heard right? Oh, please God, please. Let him have heard right.

"Jonathan…look at me."

His body stayed where it was; chest heaving while everything else lay still, but his eyes darted in the direction of the voice; a voice so clear and so wonderful that it couldn't possibly be true.

But there he was – sitting in a chair right beside his bed, hair disheveled and eyes filled with worry, yet his composure remained calm and collected; strong and steady.

Jonathan couldn't take it; couldn't believe. How was he here? Why?

"I couldn't leave port without seeing that you made it home alright." The Captain's tone was soft, sad even; surprisingly gentle as he continued on answering the boy's unspoken question. "It wasn't until you turned the corner did I actually leave the ship myself. I lost sight of you for a while. I hadn't seen which way you went, but then I heard someone shout your name. I was going to follow you right then and there, but the way she had shouted at you and the expression she was wearing…I knew something was wrong, so I…I went ahead and asked her what happened. And then she told me… Took me a while to find you after that. She wouldn't tell me where your house was. Guess she didn't recognize my garb and got hesitant. Can't say I blame her. But I…God, kid, I know this must mean nothing, but I'm so sorry, Jonathan, I really am."

The brunet was up before he knew it, his body colliding with the older man's chest with such force that it almost threw him back and out of the chair, but he remained seated where he was, his arms and lap suddenly full with the crying child that was the boy he had rescued those many months ago.

Jonathan curled into him, his arms snaking around his middle and clinging to his frame like a life line. He cried so hard, his sobs coming back full force as he both mourned the loss of his family and embraced the return of his new. How could this man ever think words from his mouth as meaningless? How could he think that Jonathan would not, in fact, take his apology seriously? How could he not realize that the boy would understand his sincerity? He tried to voice those things; to tell him how much he meant to him, how glad he was to have him back; how appreciative, how eternally grateful. But instead he just cried and cried, and Percival's embrace turned slowly into that of a gentle rocking; so unusual for the older man, or maybe not. No, maybe it wasn't unusual at all. After all, that side of him had always been there. Just very scarcely seen. Yet Jonathan was one of the lucky few, wasn't he? Lucky enough to not only see it, but to be on it's receiving end; to be genuinely loved.

His eyes became heavy soon after; the tears leaving him tired and strained, while the continuous rocking from Percival only intensified his exhaustion, easing him into slumber.

"Go back to sleep now," he heard him say quietly.

Jonathan, ever eager to please, answered the only way he knew how. "Aye, Captain."

Sleep came easy.

--

When he next woke up, he realized instantly where he was. Placed back in the Captain's bed, yes, but it did not come as a shock to him this time. More like an intense relief.

"It's morning."

Jonathan startled, his eyes darting over to the small desk where the Captain sat working on various medicines. "'It's morning?'"

Percival nodded. "Figured you wouldn't be too sure about the time of day. When I…when I found you yesterday, the sun was setting, and when you first woke up, it was already pretty late. But after that you slept for the rest of the night. Sun's just coming up now."

"Oh…"

"Yeah…"

A silence encased them both then. How to go about saying all there was that needed to be said? Was it wise for Jonathan to openly confess how he felt in regards to what had happened? Did his tears from yesterday not already show what was going on inside his head?

But Percival seemed rather hesitant himself. He was looking at his knees and fidgeting; not a common sight to behold in terms of the Captain's usual posture. "Listen, kid…" the red head started, being the first to break the silence. "I…I don't know what you want to do. I shouldn't have assumed, but it's your life, so really it's…it's up to you. The ship hasn't sailed away yet. Well, it has, but only a little. Just out of eye sight from your town, but not far enough so that it'd be any great chore to turn around and go back… So it's up to you, really…"

Jonathan, who was now sitting up, looked back at him; wide eyed and rather bewildered. "I…Captain…what are you…am I allowed to…?"

"Damn it, kid, you seriously didn't pick up on anything _before_ all of this? I – Ah, to hell with it: Jonathan, I nee-_hever_ wanted to drop you off. I hated the very idea of it. But I did because you wanted to, and shit, kid, if I had known what was going to happen, I would've spared you the pain straight from the start, but – "

"No." Jonathan couldn't believe he had just cut the Captain off. He hadn't meant to. But Percival seemed to accept it with quiet understanding, his gaze turning to look at the young lad who sat fiddling with his hands on the bed. "I…I'm glad I went back. I…I hate…I hate what I found there, but I'd rather know than not…" Jonathan could feel the tears coming back again, but he swallowed them down, so desperately trying to say all it was that he'd been dying to get off his chest. "I think I'm very selfish, Captain."

"Kid…if you were selfish, rest assured I'd call you on it. But trust me when I tell you: You are not a selfish person."

But the brunet just shook his head, still fighting the onslaught of tears that threatened to spill over. "I hurt so much for them – for my mother and my brother – yet even when I was sitting by their graves, I…I wanted you t-to come get me. I thought it was impossible, but I wanted it. I was alone and scared and it was so selfish. So utterly –"

"Now you stop right there, Newbie. You stop right there and you listen to me for a second: You think it's selfish to want someone there with you when you just found out people you loved _died?_ That is by far one of thee most ridiculous things I have ever heard you say."

"But –"

"No. No buts. I won't stand for them. Do you think it's selfish to come with me then; to stay here on this ship? Do you think your family would have wanted you to spend the rest of your life curled in between those two head stones? God, Newbie, do you have any idea how _horrifying_ it was to find you like that? And all be damned if I'm not saying I don't blame you, but for God's sake, kid, do you really not get it? Your mom, your brother…they're not the only people in this world who love you, you know…"

Jonathan, who had been staring at his hands, face mournful, looked up at him in complete shock. Their eyes met for a fraction of a second before Percival turned away, jaw clenched, but it was enough to get the message across.

Jonathan had known for a while now that he loved his Captain like his own father, but he hadn't known, hadn't _really_ known, that the same could be said for the older man before him. Except Percival didn't love him the way a son would love his father, of course.

He loved him the way his brother had loved him; his family member. And he loved him the way his mother had loved him:

His son.

Jonathan could only stare at him, speechless. Had he heard right? Was this really happening?

"I'm not saying you shouldn't grieve," Percival started up again, breaking the silence between them. "But what I am saying is that you can both grieve and…and do what it is that makes you happy. You can take that step that helps _ease_ the grief; that will eventually allow it to pass. If that involves you going back home and setting up for yourself your own living arrangements, then that's fine, and I'll do just that, but if that involves you staying on this vessel and sailing with us, then I'll – "

"Yes. Yes, Captain, please. I would…I would love that. To come with you. To sail with you and with Turk and, and, and –"

"_Breathe_, Newbie. And while you're at it, stop cutting me off, will ya'? I'm not used to it, and it tends to annoy."

Jonathan, who had looked away at the beginning of the lecture, lifted his gaze to apologize, but when his eyes met the expression of his Captain's, there was a small grin there, and JD couldn't help the returning smile of his own.

It was then that the morning bell sounded – it's ringing oddly celebratory rather than your every day wake up call – surprising the young brunet enough so that he let out a tiny, little squeak. Percival snickered under his breath, earning himself an embarrassed glance from Jonathan.

"I…Captain – can I ask you something?"

Percival refrained from grinning, knowing what it was that was getting ready to be asked. "Newbie?"

"I, um…this past week or so, I've been…I've been _really_ hungry. Almost all the time. And my voice, in the middle of talking, will get kinda, um…it'll get kind of high. And I guess I've always been a little clumsy, but lately I can't stop tripping. Do you, I mean…you're a physician – do you know what that means? Am I…am I sick?"

Percival really couldn't help the low chuckle that escaped him, causing the used-to-be-cabin-boy to only flush further. "No, Newbie, you're not sick. It's called puberty. Everyone goes through it at one point or another, and you're eleven – not an unusual time for it to hit. Your voice is changing, which is why it's cracking so much, and your limbs are growing faster than the rest of your body right now, which is why you keep on tripping over yourself. And the reason you keep getting hungry is because your body needs those nutrients to help keep up with all of those spurts."

"So…what does that mean then?" Jonathan asked curiously, standing from his place on the bed due to the morning bell's persistent ringing.

Percival stood from his spot as well, walking over to Jonathan just too casually ruffle his hair. "It means you're growing up, kid."

Jonathan giggled, but stopped suddenly; a worrisome thought plaguing his mind and bringing him out of the moment. "Captain…?"

"Jonathan?"

"Do you think…do you think, knowing that I'm safe, knowing that I'm happy – even if they didn't think piracy was the best way to go – do you think…my mom and my brother would be proud of me right now?"

There was a moment of silence in which Jonathan couldn't help but feel nervous. The Captain's answer would be and honest one, so –

"Yeah, kid," he responded quietly. "I think they would."

"But how do you know?"

"Because truth is, Newbie? I'm proud of you."

Before Jonathan could express how much that meant to him, before he could even allow it to really sink in, Percival had turned away and towards the cabin's exit. He stood in its frame for a moment, back still facing him as he looked about the main deck. From behind him, Jonathan could see that it was empty, though noise from the galley could be heard. "Odd," Percival commented quietly, eyebrows drawn together in contemplation.

"What's odd?"

"Seems everyone's already in the galley. No surprise there, but you think whoever had been ringing the bell would still be out on deck. Hell, it was just shrilling away two seconds ago."

Jonathan had no idea why the memory hit him the way it did; a memory that, at the time, had seemed completely insignificant: The morning in which he'd first heard the bell being tolled, it's owner's voice traveling joyously through out the ship: _"Up, the lot of you, up! Breakfast, breakfast, breakfast!"_

And hadn't the bell sounded odd this morning? It rang as if in celebration; more than just a demand to get up and out of bed.

He knew it was probably just his over active imagination again, but he could not help the small chuckle that escaped his lips.

"What's so funny there, Newbie?"

"Huh? Oh, um…nothing. I'm being, um…I was day dreaming, again."

"Ah… Well, how about we go get some breakfast then. I'm sure baldy will be more than appreciative to see that you're alright."

Jonathan smiled, following his Captain out of the cabin and into the galley. It would take time to get over the loss of his mother and brother, but here, within _the Sacred Heart,_ surrounded by its peculiar crew and guided by its ever headstrong Captain, Jonathan knew he would be alright. He would come back from his heart breaking discovery, and he would make it in this world; along side those whose lives meant more to him than he would ever be able to express.

_**A/N:**__ I know that probably feels like the end of the story. I guess, in a way, it sort of is. But believe it or not, there's one more chapter to go. Anyway guys, thanks again for all of your feedback. I hope you enjoyed it, and until next time!_


	15. Chapter XV

_**A/N: **__So wow…it would be very easy for me to sit here and get really sentimental with you guys, but I'm going to refrain until the end. …Okay, I lied. I know I'm going to just end up repeating myself later on, but I cannot thank you guys enough for the insane amount of support, feedback, and encouragement you've given me through out this whole entire story. I know I say it frequently, but please don't think I'm ever not serious when I say how much I appreciate it. You guys are absolutely wonderful._

_Anyway, I believe that's enough out of me for now. So here it is – the last and longest chapter to date. I hope you enjoy it._

_**Disclaimer:**__ I own a very large nothing._

**Chapter XV:**

"_This time I'll be sailing. No more bailing boats for me. I'll be out here on the sea; just my confidence and me. And I'll be awful sometimes; weakened to my knees. But I'll learn to get by on the little victories."_

_-Little Victories, by Matt Nathanson-_

**-One year later-**

Jonathan tiptoed quietly, his hammock forgotten as he made his way upstairs and out onto the main deck.

He no longer needed to spend his nights there; afraid of being held up in the darkness what was the lower deck where the rest of the crew always slept. In fact, he was at a point where he couldn't imagine sleeping anywhere else. The company of others, even in sleep, was extremely comforting to him. Of course, that didn't mean he _never _snuck up to sleep by the wheel, or that he didn't take joy out of residing in the Captain's cabin on those rare nights in which he had become slightly ill.

But night was slowly turning into day; the sun rising over the horizon and hitting _the Sacred Heart_ with a gentle glow. Like his Captain, he was definitely becoming something of an early riser. Not too mention it was his turn to ring the morning bell; yet another reason to get up early.

But his real reason for today's early awakening was simply this: It'd been a year since his family had passed. A year since the Captain invited him to remain on the vessel; to remain a part of their family. A year since he followed Percival down into the galley to be lovingly embraced by Christopher and even a few others. The only thing that had struck him as odd was Shilling Guy's almost immediate decision to start picking on him again. He'd given no explanation for this sudden turn of events, but Jonathan didn't let it bother him too much. He was getting better at sticking up for himself, and he figured long ago that the crewman's behavior was like that of an older brother, though he preferred Turk's older sibling mannerisms over Shilling Guy's any day…

But all of that had happened a year ago, and while he would forever be grateful that he was here with the Captain and his endearingly quirky crew, that did not mean he would let this day pass without recognition towards the family he had lost in the process.

With the morning sun caressing his skin, Jonathan lowered himself to the ground; knees planted on the boards of the ship as he folded his hands in prayer.

Jonathan drew in a shaky breath. Truth be told, he knew very little about how one went about praying. Was there even a wrong or right way? His family hadn't been church goers, nor had he seen anyone other than Christopher partake in such a custom on board the ship, but he'd never asked him if there was a certain way to go about it before.

So very slowly, very carefully, Jonathan began to speak, the waves lapping gently against the ship as he did so. "Um…hi, God. Okay…that probably wasn't the best way to start. I'm sorry. I don't know what I'm doing, but actually, I don't think that bothers you. But, anyway, um…I don't know how to say this, so I'm just going to say it: Thank you. I was heartbroken to come home and find my family…my family gone. But looking back at everything that's happened to me so far, I'm starting to see a pattern: Whenever something devastating happens – something that I'm not even sure I can handle – something good always comes from that bad thing later on. Maybe it's not instant, but it does…eventually. And I guess that's life, isn't it? And I know even though I'm thanking you, even though other bad things may happen, leaving me…leaving me scared and not knowing what to do, I know I'm not going to think something like, 'It'll all work out,' because sometimes it doesn't. I know that. Or maybe it does, but it's not always revealed in perfect pictures. Um…I don't really know what I'm saying anymore. I think…what I think I'm trying to say is thank you for giving me Captain Percival. Thank you for giving me this crew and this ship. And thank you for not leaving me in that graveyard. And please forgive me when other bad things happen, and I forget about you, and I don't think things like, 'It'll all be okay in the end.' But I think you'll forgive me for that, if it happens. I don't know why exactly, but I do.

"Oh, and God? Could you…can you tell my mom and my brother I said hi? That I love them and that I really hope they're proud of me? That I won't forget them? And could you…could you tell Ben I said hi too, please? If it's okay, could you tell him that we miss him and that the Captain finally opened up to somebody else? I think he'd be happy to hear that, if he doesn't know already. Actually, I think he probably does. But if you could tell him that anyway, I'd really appreciate it. Thank you. And, um…Amen."

--

Captain Percival sat at his desk, mixing a small cup of medicine he created while looking up at the map that hung delicately on his wall.

Where to sail next?

He was usually more than adequate in terms of finding himself and his crew a new and well received location. Just last month, he'd led them to a cave in which bits of gold had embedded themselves into its stone walls. A couple of months before that, they had bombarded a ship led by the Navy; a cargo ship that had been taking what was supposed to be being delivered to those less fortunate than themselves, and instead selling it's cargo to others in order to buy their own valuables. He'd heard the tale from Carla last they made port, who had undoubtedly heard it from Laverne. He was quick to track them down and take all they had, while also managing to tie up said, "Good men" and deliver them back to their home base with a not-so-kindly-worded note tacked to the front of their uniforms. Rat bastards…

Yes, he was very good at coming up with new destinations that both kept his vow intact while still pleasing the crew. This morning, however, he was coming up blank. He had to give them some kind of goal sooner or later. It'd been almost a month since his last announcement, and he could tell the crew was worried about him. (Something he wasn't sure he liked or disliked, though whether or not he would say it out loud, he happened to appreciate that his crew turned to concern rather than mutiny. Hell, even the Tall Guy showed no signs of anger. Well, at him anyways. Newbie, on the other hand…)

That thought caused the older man to grin, turning his attention away from the map and onto the present that sat idly on the corner of his desk.

Jonathan was not only a damn good person, but a damn good pirate. No, not cabin boy. _Never_ cabin boy. But a full fledged pirate; through and through. He knew all the ins and outs of the ship now. Knew how to both clean and load the canons, how to make anchor, how to tie all the right knots and hoist each and every sail. And he did it all with a sort of charisma that he'd never really been able to pinpoint, but it was felt through out the ship; through out all of the crew members, actually.

Of course, he still had lessons to learn. Lessons involving both life and the sea. But none of that ever fazed Jonathan. He was constantly craving new things to do; new things to learn. New places to see and understand. He wanted to embrace it all, this new life of his, and Percival was more than happy to comply, even if he didn't always go about doing it with, well, you know…the happiest of composures…

But over the year, he had gotten better at showing the lad affection in front of others, whether it was a small hair ruffle or an approving nod. But their best conversations still took place when it was just the two of them, whether it was a private sparring practice or a late night discussion out on the main deck. Either way, both he and the boy were content; a life which he thought he'd never be given again.

Percival placed the cup down, reaching over to the kid's birthday gift and fingering the rim. He'd gotten it for the lad last they made port. He would've given it to him on his actual birthday, which happened to be just a few weeks back, but Baldy and the others had gone about getting him wasted. While he still wasn't particularly sure why turning twelve made getting drunk a necessity, he'd let it go on without comment, downing a few bottles of rum and carrying the kid to his hammock when he'd given his last drunken giggle of the evening, passing out and diving into dreamland.

Since then, he hadn't found the right time to go about giving him the damn thing. Until this morning, that is, when he realized that it'd been exactly one year since the boy officially became a part of their crew.

Standing up from his desk, gift in hand, he made his way out onto the deck. He'd worry about where it was he was leading the crew to later. This morning it was the kid's turn to ring the bell, giving them a solid five minutes alone. Maybe more, if the crew was feeling particularly lazy today… Of course, he'd usually yell at them for that, but today if it happened, he'd let it slide.

Opening the door of his cabin, he was surprised to see Newbie already out there; the kid on his knees and his hands folded as if in – Was he…was Jonathan _praying?_ He'd never seen the kid pray before. Did he do this every morning? No, he definitely would've noticed by now. Still, it struck him. Not because he himself didn't believe in God, but because people had the tendency to pray only when things went wrong. So was something wrong with Jonathan? Was that why he was praying?

Percival debated on whether or not he should wait it out in his cabin, not wanting to interrupt the kid in his prayer, even if he thought such an act was a waste of time. But over the gentle waves of the ocean and the cool, morning air, Jonathan's voice hit him, and while the kid was praying rather softly, he was able to make out part of it very well…

"I think…what I think I'm trying to say is thank you for giving me Captain Percival. Thank you for giving me this crew and this ship. And thank you for not leaving me in that graveyard."

The older man swallowed. Newbie wasn't asking for anything, was he? He was just…just praying. Just saying thank you…

Maybe he didn't know if God existed or if prayer did anything real, but watching Jonathan, thinking on how much he grew in the past year, of all that led them to where they were now, well…

His musings were cut off as Jonathan stood up from his knelt position, brushing off his pants as he did so.

The Captain merely quirked an eyebrow when the boy turned around, squeaking and losing balance upon seeing him there. He regained his stance soon enough, rubbing the back of his neck in obvious embarrassment.

"Alright there, Newbie?"

"I, um…yeah."

"Uh-huh. Anyway, kid, you were too smashed for me to give this to ya' on your birthday there, but here you go."

Jonathan's eyes widened in awe as the older man presented him with his present. But when did he - ?

"Got it last we made port," Percival replied, answering the boy's unspoken question. "They don't usually make them your size, you know, so I had to get the damn thing measured. Remember when Baldy said that he was measuring your head for whatever surgical crap he was making up at the time? That was an order by me; one of the few he obeyed without pouting in the process…"

Jonathan's fingers grazed over the leather; over the fine stitching and three separate corners that was his gift. He hadn't received anything like this from the Captain since he'd been given his sword all that time ago. Not that he was complaining, of course. He just never thought an exchange such as that one would ever happen again. "Captain, I… Thank you. Thank you so much!"

The older man smiled; one of those rare, genuine smiles that Jonathan couldn't help but glow over every single time. "You gonna try it on or what?" he finally asked, tone playful.

Jonathan obeyed at once. It fit magnificently; his first ever tricorn hat. He couldn't wait to see himself in a mirror. "I love it, Captain, I love it! Thank you so, so much. I just –"

"Alright, Newbie, alright. No need to get all sentimental on me. How about you go ring the morning bell there, savvy? I'm starving and would more than appreciate a good amount of breakfast."

The brunet nodded, face still split in two, as he scampered over to the bell and tolled it loudly. "Breakfast, the lot of you, breakfast! Up, up, up!"

--

"'Morning, Turk!"

"Hey, buddy." Turk looked up from his tray of food, smiling broadly upon seeing what JD was wearing. "So he finally gave it to you, huh?"

"You knew?"

"Well, I knew he was getting you something, and that it had something to do with him wanting me to measure your head. Huh…guess I should've put two and two together…"

JD just laughed as he took his place next to his best friend, still enjoying the feel of the hat that now adorned his head.

"So do you think we'll find out where we're heading next today?"

Jonathan chewed on his food thoughtfully, not quite knowing how to answer. Like the rest of the crew, he was curious as to what their next destination would be, but he had refrained from bringing it up with the Captain since it became apparent that he himself wasn't sure.

"I honestly don't know, but I'm up for anything," Jonathan answered truthfully, swallowing down another bite of his biscuit. "Hey! What if we made port? Do you think…do you think Elliot would like my new look?"

Turk smiled broadly. "You do know she's at least ten years older than you, right?"

JD just pouted, his face turning pink in the process. "So?"

Christopher gave his friend a playful shove as he went back to eating his food. JD took another bite from his own breakfast, thinking on the reality behind Turk's words. Yeah, he knew he was right. But hey, a boy could dream, couldn't he?

--

Percival gripped the wheel tighter than necessary, his frustration over sailing aimlessly weighing heavily on his mind. What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he come up with a decent place to head to next?

But he knew the answer. He'd known the answer for a few months now, actually.

No matter what profession he found himself in, he knew he would never be as satisfied with his "job" the way he had been when he was still a physician. Sure, being a pirate had its advantages, and thanks to Newbie, he was finally at place in his life where he didn't mind waking up in the morning. And even before Newbie, Ben…Ben had made the life of a pirate bearable; fun, even. Though he'd never told him that… He was sure Ben knew though. His first mate had always been able to read him like a book…

The older man shook his head. He couldn't dwell on it. His days as a physician were over, he knew. It just snuck up on him sometimes; the truth that was the vast difference between his current "field of work" in comparison to his last. He used to save lives every day. And now he what – stole from people? Alright, so there were perks, obviously. And because he was, after all, a very talented man, he had made his new life work for both him and those around him.

But that didn't mean he never missed being a physician.

Still, he had to come up with a new place to travel to sooner than later. The crew was getting antsy. He had felt their curiosity at breakfast earlier; their anxiety.

Hell, maybe it was best to just make port for now. Maybe one of Carla or Laverne's stories would grab his attention, giving him an idea as to where to sail to next. Not to mention he was pretty sure that Jonathan was eager to show off his new hat… Percival rolled his eyes, thinking on the kid's obvious crush for Blondie that he had yet to actually tell him about out loud. It was a good thing for her that she was older than the kid was, because if they were close enough in age where it made it even a remote possibility, then no – no, no, no, no, no. He wouldn't allow it, damn it. She wasn't good enough for his Newbie…

A sudden burst of laughter caught the older man's attention. Using his peripheral vision, Percival saw JD clutching at his sides, while Turk went about telling whatever kind of story with an obvious glint in his expression. With each passing day, the Captain could tell how close the two pirates were becoming. While it was true Baldy drove him crazy, it was also true, as Ben had once told him, that he was a good sailor. And really, he was happy JD had someone to go to when he was busy running the ship. The kid needed that. Hell, everyone did.

"C-C-Captain?"

"Nervous Guy – you've been a part of this vessel for over a year now. Will you _please_ stop it with the stuttering!?"

"I-I don't always…always do it out of-out of nerves. I think it's a na-natural stutter, Sir."

"I'm sure it is, Bethany. Now what do you want?"

"T-There's a sh-ship up ahead. I can't s-see the flag yet, but, um…I-I can tell its coming t-towards us."

"Ah, _damn it!_ I am see-_hoe_ not in the mood for this today. Alright, Pee-Pants, listen up. I want you to go up in the crow's nest – yes, I put you there because it's the one thing you're capable of doing – and I want you to shout down the minute you see what flag that ship sails under, aye?"

"A-Aye, aye."

"Good. Now scram."

It was only a moment after Murphy's depature did another much more welcoming voice hit the older man's ears. "Captain? Is everything okay?"

A distressed sigh. "Yeah, Newbie. Everything's fine. Why'd you ask?"

"You swore very loudly, Captain…"

"Ah… Well, Sir-Stutters-A-Lot just spotted a ship heading towards us, that's all, but it's too soon to tell if it's ally or foe."

Percival turned around then, hands still on the wheel, just in time to see the kid pale. JD had obviously used his sword since _thee_ fight, but never had they actually been _attacked_ by another since; never had a real fight taken place since that God-awful day. He'd used it when they took over the Navy's self-serving cargo ship, of course, and obviously when he sparred with his fellow crewmates, but never again had he used it, or had been forced to use it, rather, for real battle. The idea of a similar encounter happening again obviously scared him.

Percival turned towards the crow's nest, where Douglas stood waiting, spyglass pressed to his eye as he looked out at the horizon. It'd be a while before the vessel's colors were identified…

Just in case though, the older man called out to the rest of the ship, making the young lad before him startle. "APPROACHING VESSEL, LADIES! LOAD THE CANONS IN CASE IT'S AN ATTACK, YOU HEAR?"

"AYE, AYE CAPTAIN!"

Jonathan had turned away then, preparing to follow the crew and go about obeying the given command. A strong hand stopped him though, it's grip firm around the collar of his shirt. "Oh no you don't, Newbie. I have something else I want you to do."

"Huh? What else is there?"

Percival swallowed. This was a big step; for a number of reasons, really. Both nautically and even emotionally, this was big. But who's to say what ship approached their vessel? Who's to say he'd get the chance to do what he was about to do again? The kid was nervous, and while the initial act of such a lesson would inevitably make him jittery, the older man knew he could do it; knew the feel of it all would both give him the adrenaline rush he needed while also simultaneously calming him down.

"I want you to come up here and steer," he finally answered.

The kid's jaw dropped instantly, reminding the Captain of when he had first told the lad that they were going to spar against one another. The red head tried not to grin at the memory, or at the face that stared up at him now, clearly unbelieving.

"I…what?"

"You. Steer. _The Sacred Heart._ Me. Teaching. Any of this sinking in?"

"I…_what!?_"

Percival rolled his eyes. "Oh c'mon now, kid. I'm not just gonna leave you at the wheel there. Now come. Time to learn."

JD was visibly shaking as he walked closer to the Captain, the older man allowing him room in front of him in order to grip the wheel. For a moment, all Jonathan could do was stand there, hands hesitant and visibly twitching as he raised them both cautiously, his fingers lingering by the wheel's many handles but refusing to make contact.

Softly, so that the other crew members would not hear him, Percival bent down closer to Jonathan's level, making it easier for the kid to hear the sincerity behind his words. "You'll be fine," he coaxed quietly. "It's okay, Jonathan. I'm right here behind you if you need me. Grab the wheel, kid. Grab the wheel and breathe."

With a shaky intake of breath and a final flex of the fingers, Jonathan obeyed.

Oh, God…

"Now look ahead of you, Jonathan," the Captain went on in his same tone from before, voice both uncharacteristically soft and encouraging. "Look at the sea."

JD, who had been staring wide eyed at his own hands on the wheel, looked up and out before him; the sea's vastness and beauty hitting him like it had never hit him before.

Oh, the _feel_ of it! The awe-inspiring _sight_ of it!

Such an amazing wonder, whatever this was. This something-or-other he had never felt before. This…this…What was it?

"You're in control, kiddo. You have the wheel. You're deciding where it goes, where it moves. And what you see before you isn't just the ocean, but the absolute freedom that is where it could lead you; to wherever you want to go."

"Amazing," the brunet breathed finally, voice a mere whisper as his eyes remained wide with wonder.

"It is, but Jonathan…you have to know how to use that freedom; to use that control. Wisely. Selflessly. And I'm showing you this at an early age, because I think, more than anybody here, you'll be able to handle it best. Well, anyone besides me, of course… But this won't be a permanent position, Jonathan. I still don't want you steering the craft in shifts with the others. But I want you to feel this and take it in; remember it. And I want you to think on it before you reach the point of steering by yourself; of taking the wheel and guiding it where you will, or guiding it to a given destination, or just guiding it at all."

Jonathan nodded, the flesh on his arms erupting into goose bumps from both the wheel in his grasp and the Captain's words of wisdom. "Aye, Captain."

"Good lad."

There were a few more minutes of Jonathan steering, his posture visibly relaxing as he went about turning the vessel in barely noticeable directions, but the peace of the moment was interrupted by a quavering, stuttering voice.

"T-The Navy, Captain!" Douglas cried, running up to them from the crow's nest. "It's vessel is that of the Navy's!"

--

"Ah,_ hell!_"

Jonathan watched, rigid, as the Captain grabbed the spyglass from Doug, putting it up to his own eye to examine for himself the situation at hand. Brave pirate or no – when a large ship from the Navy was sailing directly your way, you either fired, killed, or ran. Firing usually led to killing – something Percival would not do, and as much as the older man_ loathed_ turning in the opposite direction, he was by no means going to put the rest of his crew in danger by getting the lot of them caught and hanged from the gallows. No way in hell.

So JD was surprised when, while looking through said spyglass, the Captain merely quirked a puzzled eyebrow. "That's new," he finally stated.

"S-Sir?" Douglas asked hesitantly.

"They're raising the flag of surrender, yet they're the ones initiating this little get together, and you know what there, Pee-Pants? I think that's exactly what this is: A get together. And I don't think they're using that flag as a sign of surrender, but as a sign of peace. Huh…"

Jonathan moved away from the wheel, allowing the Captain to step in and turn it in the direction of the Navy's approaching ship. "HOLD FIRE!" he shouted to the crew, all of them clearly apprehensive.

"Captain," Christopher spoke up then, walking over to where they stood. "Don't you think it could be a trap?"

"Why gee, Eliza, really? Of course I've thought of that, you idiot. But truth be told, the likely hood of them going through the trouble of finding us, simply to come as they are, is very, very slim; especially if they're after our capture. They Navy isn't a peaceful group, no matter how much they'd like you to believe otherwise. If they want a noose around your neck, well, they're not shy to let you know. But they _are_ selective. They go after the biggest, baddest pirates out here, and while I may be the biggest, I'm most certainly not the baddest. There are still plenty of cut throats out here whose time is spent only in malicious, devious ways. They wouldn't be after me if they were simply looking for a higher position from whoever sent them our way."

So Percival turned the boat in the Navy's direction, their two ships coming closer and closer as the minutes passed. Jonathan swallowed. He was scared. Very scared. But if the Captain believed this to be safe, then he was going to trust him.

Finally, after what felt like a small eternity, the approaching vessel was close enough for all eyes to see, spyglass or no. Jonathan visibly relaxed upon seeing the expressions held on the ship opposite of theirs. They were nervous, clearly. Nervous of them and nervous of Percival, but no one was standing as if in attack. No swords were drawn; no pistols aimed their way. And while they appeared undoubtedly apprehensive, there was a calm, sort of peace there. It wasn't a trick. That much was now certain. Yet when Jonathan looked towards the Captain, ready to celebrate that all was well, he was surprised to see the older man's expression tight with anger; blue eyes piercing as they gazed on at the Navy through narrow slits.

"Captain…?"

"It's them."

"I'm sorry?"

But the Captain wasn't really talking to him any more. He was just ranting; clearly enraged. "What do they want from me? Thos rat bastards. Couldn't of killed any more patients out here on the sea now, could I? What, they plan on branding me as a pirate twice? All be _damned_ if they think I'm up for a little tea party or whatever the hell this is. I am ra-_heely_ not in the mood!"

And suddenly Jonathan knew: The men on the ship opposite of them – they weren't just _any_ vessel of the Navy's, no. They were the men in charge of Percival's home town; the men who had taken Kelso's word over his.

The men who had branded him as a pirate.

"MR. COX!" one of them shouted when they were close enough. "WE COME HERE TO NEGOTIATE!"

The crew turned to their Captain at once, whose ears were turning a shade of pink not often seen on the red headed pirate. "'Cox?'" Todd asked suddenly, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

"None of you heard that," the Captain responded threateningly.

"MR. COX, PLEASE!"

Percival left the wheel in a fury, jumping up on the railing that faced them and crossing his arms. He was staring them down, eyes narrow, and Jonathan could see the men on the Navy's ship step a few feet backwards. The Captain was the perfect picture of one _extremely_ pissed off pirate.

"That's Captain Percival!" he growled at them, their ships now close enough where screaming wasn't necessary. "Remember? Captain? It's that pretty little title you gave me when you took my career and everything along with it. Now ladies, I know you're all shaking in your polished boots and wondering what it is this mad physician who supposedly _killed_ three innocent lives is going to do to you, but here's the kicker – _I don't kill._ So I'd advise you all to say what it is you came here to say and _leave._ Leave before I come over there myself and _make_ you leave. And trust me – I will."

There was a long, awkward silence from the ship that now faced there's, but then finally, one of them spoke up. "W-We were wrong."

"I'm sorry there, Billy the Brave, can I hear that again?"

"W-We were wrong!"

"Wow, _really!?_ Now how'd you geniuses come up with that magnificent conclusion?"

"Enid."

There was a very long, very quiet pause, this time from the Captain rather than the Navy. "Enid…Kelso's wife… Alright, this needs explaining, and I mean now."

"A-About…about a year after, um…after it all happened. Enid told us."

"'Told you?' I thought the poor woman was crippled. How was she able to get to you? How did she even _know?_"

"She was. Crippled, I mean. Which is why it took her a year to reveal the truth. Robert never helped her out of the house; he damn well near kept her locked there. She had nothing to assist her in terms of getting out herself, which was driving her mad more than usual, because she alone knew what had happened. She had heard her husband's conversation with his assistant Theodore; revealing to him his plan and how…how he went about setting you up… It'd been eating at her for a year, and yet she could do nothing about it.

"Until one day, I went to visit Robert myself; to…to commend him on supposedly saving a dying patient's life the day before… But anyway, when I walked in, Enid was there, looking at me like a savior. I had no idea why. Apparently, I was the first visitor in over a year besides Theodore, and since…since I had a hand in what happened to you, Captain Percival, she knew it was me who she needed to reveal the truth to.

"She kept on signaling to me with her hands; kept on indicating that we go into a private room. I was hesitant; very hesitant. According to Robert, his wife was not only crippled, but crazy as well. But I looked into her eyes, and it was void of lunacy; empty of any and all madness in terms of the mind. The only thing there was desperation, and an obvious hate for her husband. So I excused myself for one reason or another, and was able to hide myself in a room that was out sight and close enough for Enid to manage her way over.

"She told me then; told me everything she had heard and everything she knew to be true. I was bewildered; baffled, even. I could not believe that Robert, of all men, would do such a thing."

Percival openly scoffed, causing the men opposite of him to blush, while the crew of _the Sacred Heart_ visibly scowled at the Navy's oblivious words.

"But then," the soldier continued, "She let out a gasp, and when I turned around, Robert was standing in the door way. His face was one of ultimate rage. Yes, I saw the evil there; his eyes aflame with what had been revealed. I saw it before he wiped his expression clean, putting on that smile that had charmed so many into believing his lies. Looking at it then though, the only thing it managed to do was sicken me. I could tell by the way he escorted me out, by the way he talked of his wife and how she was clearly losing her mind; I knew. Knew Enid had been telling the truth.

"I was quick to inform the other men, and in less than an hours time, we were there to arrest him; there to condemn him to the same life that we, unfortunately, condemned you too as well."

There was yet another long pause, in which Percival asked a question that the Navy obviously didn't expect to be asked. "And Enid…?"

"…He'd killed her, Mr. Cox. Killed her before we were able to make his arrest."

The crew audibly gasped, while Jonathan felt his stomach turn in horror. He swallowed down his disgust as best he could, hardly believing his ears, and when he turned to his Captain, he could see it there too; the horror. Though the man hid it better than the rest of _the Sacred Heart._ What he _was_ having trouble hiding, however, was the glimmer of sadness beneath his eyes; those same eyes that continued to stare at the Navy before him. Percival hadn't known Enid. Had never really met her. Yet she had revealed the truth to all; had risked her life to destroy the man who had undeniably tortured her. The truth was, out of all the lives Kelso had ruined and tortured, Enid's life was the one he had made the most miserable, even before her untimely death. And this woman, who had never met Percival either, had acted upon what she knew to be true. She had cleared the Captain's name of his condemnation.

"Our town – your town – has no physician," the soldier finally started up again. "We are in need of one; desperately. And you…you were by far the best. You always were. And yet we…we foolishly dismissed your words. We did this to you, we know that. We also know you owe us nothing, but please – people are sick; always someone sick, and there is no one there to help them. The other physicians only know the basics, and the few surgeons we have are good at what they do, but with no one to tell them what it is that needs to be looked at or cut, it is near impossible for them to go about their jobs. Please, Mr. – Captain Percival. We need you."

Jonathan swallowed. He knew very well that his Captain would not do anything to please the Navy; especially the people that had so easily taken from him all that he had ever known. But for the people who were dying; for the people in his home village…

The brunet was struck with an old memory then; one that he had almost forgotten. Hadn't he once contemplated their lives together, other than what they were doing now? Hadn't he once thought what it would be like, the lot of them, partaking in something other than piracy?

But they weren't asking for the crew of _the Sacred Heart._ They were asking for Percival and Percival alone.

"Fine," the Captain finally answered, "but on one condition."

--

Jonathan was running.

His heart raced wildly as he ran – faster and faster – towards his destination. He could not, would not disappoint. Almost there, almost there. Faster and faster and –

"Got it!" he breathed out triumphantly, lungs still straining after the run. "Had," intake, "some trouble," outtake, "finding it."

_"Breathe,_ Newbie. For God's sake, kid, the man's not dying."

Dr. Percival took the vile from Jonathan's hand, presenting it to the man before him. "I want you to sip this for the next hour. Make it last, you hear me? Your nausea will end soon enough, but if you'd be interested in gee, I don't know, not vomiting up everything you've eaten in the past year – _again_ – you might want to lay off the foods that I've told you over and over and over and _over_ again not to eat, seeing as how they ca-_learly_ make you sick. No whaddya' say?"

The man blushed as he accepted the vile of medicine awkwardly. "I – yeah, okay… Thank you, Dr. Percival."

"Uh-huh. Now scram. There are other patients to see; ones whose illnesses came from causes they couldn't prevent, rather than being too stupid to follow simple directions."

The man scurried off, eyeing the brunet for only a moment before exiting the small examination room.

"You're such a warm hearted physician…"

"Watch it there, Newbie."

But JD just giggled, his happiness at the point of overflowing.

It'd been a whole month since he and the crew of _the Sacred Heart_ sailed back to Percival's home town. Jonathan had admittedly been frightened upon hearing the older man accept the Navy's offer, but his one condition – God bless his soul – was that the crew of _the Sacred Heart_ be allowed to work with him in his old profession. Proving that, once and for all, his lecturing and scolding them meant only that he cared; that he would not see the crew that had stuck by him so loyally be left alone.

Of course, if you ever told him this out loud, he'd flick your ear with a vigor that you'd never believe possible.

But it was wonderful, absolutely wonderful, to be here in his mentor's old community. Houses had been built to accompany its new villagers. Turk, who was _beyond_ happy at being given the chance to train as a surgeon, had requested a house slightly bigger than one person would need. When Jonathan asked him why, the bald ex-pirate smiled triumphantly. "When things die down a bit," he had answered, "I'm going to go back and get her. Wait for it, little buddy. I'm going to get her and she's going to appreciate the extra space. Just wait and see."

Todd had also taken to working with Christopher as a surgeon, but the best of them all, undoubtedly, was Wen. Percival had put him in charge of teaching the others, never having known till that point that he _too_ had been a physician before piracy called his name.

Douglas, poor Douglas, was in charge of examining those who had passed. The very idea sent shivers down Jonathan's spine, but it never seemed to bother the quivering used-to-be-pirate. In fact, he seemed much more relaxed in his new profession. He'd been given the chance to work with medicine with both Percival and Jonathan as well, but the responsibility of being in charge over lives besides his own had scared him to no end, causing him to mess up on more than one occasion. So being in charge of those who had passed was, oddly enough, what he would consider a dream job.

The only one who wasn't too keen on helping those who were sick was Shilling Guy, yet he refused to leave the company of those of _the Sacred Heart._

"But why don't you want to be a physician?" Jonathan had asked him in the beginning.

"Oh, so what – you think because I was a pirate with the rest of you makes me automatically want the same thing that you all want? This place is filthy, you know that? Filthy."

"If it's the training you're worried about, I'm sure Percival could –"

"Are you calling me stupid?"

"What!? No! I was just –" But he'd been cut off by the taller man, who had shoved the broom's straw, dirt covered end in the poor boy's face. Jonathan hadn't asked him why he'd rather clean than help patients since.

"Jonathan, pull your head out of the clouds, will ya?" Percival spoke suddenly, causing the young brunet to jump. "Go out into the waiting room and bring in the next patient."

The boy nodded quickly, running out and into what he thought was one of Percival's best ideas yet – the waiting room.

Patients, even if they did need to be visited within the confines of their home, had to go out or send out a family member to fetch the physician in need. A lot of people in Percival's field simply told them to go home and wait; that they had to obtain the medicine first before going about healing anyone, or that a multitude of people had already requested his service before him or her, sending the other sick individual home without guidance.

But Percival thought this process ridiculous; completely unhelpful. So he had extended on the building that used to be where he worked, creating a room in which patients could rest and wait comfortably, even if he was currently in the process of helping somebody else. And if it was a home visit, that's where Jonathan would step in; Percival's student and protégé who was learning more and more as each day passed. _He_ would go to the house in question, but not before going over the diagnosis with his mentor, being told what would most likely be needed, and given the medicine to help treat said condition.

But it was Jonathan who came up with another idea for the waiting room; one that Percival had agreed to instantly.

On the walls of the room in which their patients sat sniffling, a series of paintings hung delicately; all of them beautiful and all of them stunning. They were looked at affectionately by those who came in; those who were sick and those who knew exactly where they had come from; the man who had painted them with love and dedication.

Jonathan stepped into the waiting room finally, surprised to see that no one was there. He hurried back to the examination room, where the older man stood putting various jars of medicines back into their proper place.

"Dr. Percival? That was the last patient of the day."

The red headed man looked over at him, clearly relieved. "About time. I swear – if one more person comes in here complaining over a sickness they don't even have, or another person who's only sick because they refused to follow my instructions in the first place, then I'm going to break something. I am."

Jonathan bit back a smile. He understood his mentor's frustration, of course, but he still couldn't help but glow when the older man confided in him, even if it was done through rant-format.

"So whaddya' say, kid – ready to go home?"

Every night, Percival would ask him this, and every night, Jonathan had to refrain from jumping up and down.

_Home._

Living under the same roof, the two of them. Living together in a way that JD had only dreamed of.

Living together like that of a father and son.

The brunet smiled broadly, giving him the answer he gave every night. "Aye, Captain."

Usually, this response would earn him an eye roll; a small scoff, even. But tonight, the older man spared him an affectionate grin; one that understood the real meaning behind those two, simple words. How much that reply meant; for the both of them.

"Then grab your coat, kid. It's cold out."

The brunet did at once, following his Captain out of the building they'd named Sacred Heart and out onto the streets of their new village.

It was cold out, but Jonathan remained warm with the coat that had been purchased for him by Percival not long after settling there, and with the tricorn hat he still wore when the two of them weren't working.

And a warmth flooded through him, the best kind of warmth imaginable, as a cold wind swept over them both, causing the Captain to draw the lad nearer, placing a protective arm around his shoulder as they continued together on their way home.

Jonathan smiled. This wasn't another one of his fantasies. This was _real._ And honestly:

What more could a boy ask for?

_-Fin-_

_**A/N:**__ So…that's it. Can you believe it? It's still sinking in, to be honest. And yeah, I know I'm about to sound like a broken record again, but thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. You've all been _immensely_ supportive, and I hope beyond hope that you've enjoyed the final chapter of this story. Once again, you guys are amazing. Thanks so much for sticking with me. And of course, until next time. ;)_


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